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Freedom Convoy – First year Anniversary

I am honoring those who continue to stand up for freedom and peace against

machiavellian political practices.

My ‘tinfoil’ hat’s off to you!

Happy Anniversary!

You make me proud to be Canadian!  Roll on! Honk, Honk

 

To see my original story from one year ago, please click on the link below:

Eighteen Wheels of Freedom

 

Thank-you for following, reading, sharing and commenting – The Trefoil Muse

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A piercing scream cut through the quiet night, ricocheted off concrete walls and echoed onto the city street.  A hollow thud then gasp of air followed.  It was the woman’s last breath.

A dark figure loomed over the body.

Bobby-Joe McKintock had just frightened his nosey, old neighbor to death; quite by accident, when in jest, he’d jumped out of the shadows.

A sinister laugh caromed through the night.  Bobby-Joe glanced around then disappeared into the darkness before the backlash of what he’d done hit him.

Quiet fell upon the city street.  The silence was deafening.

Sounds of sirens and gunshots ensued.

It was a ricochet that ended him.

As it turns out, the rebound effect is no joking matter!

Thank-you for following, reading, sharing and commenting – The Trefoil Muse

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I confess; I believe the real problem with my childhood is that I lived in a fantasy world.

When I got older, I searched for enlightenment.

Along with enlightenment came an intense sense of disillusionment.

No one warned me that enlightenment would cause my fantasy world to dissolve into chaos.

Enlightenment is destructive.  It makes you take a look at the world as it really is.  I didn’t like what I was seeing.  People whom I adored were not who I’d envisioned – they had faults – perfect faults – faults I’d over-looked, faults I’d blinded myself to. I became very angry, disillusioned and broken. (more…)

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I am beyond the circle today, racing toward freedom.  “Oh, how I love to run.”

There is strength in my legs and courage in my heart.  My vision is keen.  I am galloping into uncharted territory but ancient wisdom within tells me I have traveled this path before.  I am not afraid.  With this knowledge, I strive forward gathering increased energy and speed.  The air on my face feels good.  It is cool and fresh.  My white mane and tail flow out behind me uninhibited.  I am breathing deeply, nostrils wide.  The inhalation of crisp translucent air has cleansed all senses.  My exhalations are mere puffs of white.  Purity has allowed my feet to float above the obstructions below so that I may glide along like wind.  All restrictions have been removed.  I have become a leader.  But, in my exuberance with the race toward freedom, I have forgotten my herd.  They have fallen behind. (more…)

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When you judge another; You are judging yourself; Let go of your illusions.

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Man Eater – Chapter 3

By: J.V. Andrus

 

It was summer now and all was calm.  I was outside playing one evening when I spotted my run away pony, Judy.  With her head down, she stood quietly in the corral by the barn, stamping her small hooves and flicking her thick white tail back and forth in an attempt to fight off the hoards of black flies that bit at her small golden body.  Slowly, I walked towards the barn and nonchalantly swung the gate closed to trap Judy.  I turned to find myself cornered.

I was frozen to the spot.  Man Eater dove at me, white rimmed eyes full of hate and black ears flattened to the back of his head.  Grabbing me with his teeth, he flung me into the air.  The world exploded as I hit the ground and in half a daze, I crawled under the corral to safety.

Luckily for me, the jacket I had been wearing was my brother’s and being four sizes too big, I had slipped out the bottom.  I sat and watched in mute silence as Man Eater tore the jacket to shreds, then turned heel and headed for the hills.  I was soon to learn that this would only be the first of many attacks by the insane stallion. (more…)

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Man Eater – Chapter 2

By: J.V. Andrus

I was only a small girl but I’ll never forget the first time I saw that wild horse.  He was crazy-mad and full of hate.

We stood still as Daddy and Frank brought him through the yard, fighting and screaming.  His nostrils were flared wide and red and his white rimmed eyes were full of hate.  His head and short mane were caked with blood and lather covered his huge black body.

The angry stallion fought the ropes that circled his neck and held him between the two other horses.  He dived at Daddy’s horse only to be brought up tight by Frank’s rope.  He turned and charged at Frank but was thrown backwards when Daddy’s rope pulled tight.  He was a mass of flying feet and catching one of the ropes in his teeth bit down on it with such fury that the rope snapped but, Frank was too fast and another rope whistled through the air and landed over his head.

I was sick.  I thought the poor horse would kill himself before he would stop fighting.  It took the men an hour to corral the crazy, mad fighting horse. (more…)

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Gone But Not Forgotten

I have always been fascinated by the power of words to convey a message.  When I was young, my mother used to read us stories some of which were her own.  I loved those stories.

J.V. Andrus
Dec. 2, 1934 – Oct. 10, 1989

Sometimes, however, an artist’s work isn’t fully recognized or appreciated until after they are gone – the following story has never been published but, it needs to be. It is a story I have never been able to get out of my mind.

Written by my mother, J.V. Andrus, Man Eater is about a wild mustang captured in the Alberta Foothills before the majority of wild horses disappeared from the range.

Many people like to romanticize the good old days – truth is, times were hard back then and the bitter reality of that truth can be harsh. The story of this wild mustang is raw.  It’s real. It is a battle between a wild animal fighting for a territory being encroached upon by man. So, let’s take a step back into our not so distant history and enjoy my mother’s story of a wild stallion who roamed free in the foothills of Alberta in the 1939’s or 1940’s.

Proudly, I present:  Man Eater by J.V. Andrus.

The following is Chapter 1 of 3.

Man Eater

By: J.V. Andrus

When I was a little girl, my family lived on the CC Ranch southwest of Nanton.  The Ranch, situated on Willow Creek was silhouetted by the wild and beautiful Rocky Mountains.

The land was filled with bush and farther in towards the mountain was thick timber.  I remember that it was not uncommon to see bear, moose and deer on this land.  We knew that many wild horses made their home in the mountains although they were rarely seen.

My story is about a black stallion who gained the band of wild horses and who was snared in the mountains by my Dad and his best friend Frank.

I had only seen the wild horses a few times.  My Dad, who was foreman of the CC Ranch, said the wild horses were inbred.  They had large over-sized heads, crooked legs and big pie feet.  Some were very small.  The wild horses usually had long unshed hair and the older mares had matted manes and tails that hung to the ground.

They stayed high up in the mountains most of the year and grazed on the tender grass that grew along the timber line.  Their bands were very small.  The cold harsh winters and deep snow found the colts and weaker mares starving.  Some were pulled down by Timber wolves, some by another hungry predator. During these times, wild horses usually descended from the mountains into the foothills.

The ranchers hated the wild horses. (more…)

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Alight,

The moment you pause,

Then realize,

You have already landed at the spot,

You were meant to be.

 

 

 

 

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Never allow someone else’s idea of who you are to impede your growth,

Sway uninhibited to the rhythm of your heart and rise,

Even wild flowers on the Badlands let their true colors shine,

The most unique version of your self is wild and free.

 

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