What's tough to do?
What's tough to do? Take 9.5 pages of notes and create a 700 word story. I could have written a 4000 word magazine article, 100 inches of newspaper copy and I only had 20 inches to work with. So after a couple of cups of coffee, I banged out a fairly coherant story about the trail ride.Speaking of the ride, I was less involved than I thought I would be. That was kind of nice, except for yesterday. At 11:25, my fone rings and it was mom telling me to come out and find my grandfather because they had change their plans. Originally Gramps was supposed to meet them at the high way, but when they saw the major rain coming they decided to trailer in. Plus mom took a nasty spill on the first day and they were out of Loritabs. So they got in to town as it began to rain one of those steady october rains, where it's not raining really hard but it will soak you to the bone after a little while.
Anyways, they did their program, and i was a reporting fool, taking pictures and running back and forth to scribble down good quotes. I finally got to eat a bowl of chili and I called it good. By then, I knew that I was going to have to help pick up the stuff in the fellowship hall. Little did I know, that I would have to be recruited to go take the panels down and help load the horses. I dashed across the street so i could go change and put on shitty jeans and boots and my old oilskin duster. From there we went to where the horses were, and in the rain, I helped tear down the pen and load all the panels after catching Dumbshit and his buddies. Dawn didn't want to try to navigate the road with her trailer and so we were about a mile from where mom keeps Dumbshit. So being the good son, I volunteered and lead his ass down the sloppy road, in the dark rain, to the barn. I was soaked, but I got major points towards going to heaven by making that sacrifice.
posted by Rusty @ 10:08 PM
Comments: 2
