Journal
TravelingThe word traveling brings a lot of ideas to mind. The trip to London and Paris mostly comes to mind. This past summer, I traveled to Europe and saw many sights; this past summer, I saw the west side of the state of Michigan; this past summer, I revisited the old dairy farm I worked on the past three summer before (Anaphora). I love to travel. I love the car rides. I love the time to jam out to tunes or the silence of deep thoughts. I love watching as the flat land becomes deep pine forests on rolling land. I plan to travel lots. I have a whole list of places I want to go.
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A poem I wrote my freshman yearI Took a Walk
By Delaney Lauckner I took a walk to clear my mind. I took the path less traveled. I took a path that was un’signed. but it was heavily graveled. I wanted to find myself. A quest like Darwin’s. I took my dreams off the shelf. Then traveled with the four winds. I slid my feet into my Taylor’s. And Into life I race Into adventure like a sailor From here my life was laced. My quest was for excitement. So many different choices to be made. Along the way I found enlightenment. And was glad that upon my path I stayed. I took a walk to clear my mind. And took the path less traveled. A morning on the farm I wake up to my five year-old wanting to sleep with me and my husband at 1:00 in the morning. I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep until four hours later. Not even an hour later, my husband’s 6:00 alarm went off. I slowly but surely got out of the cocoon of warmth; I pulled on cold clothes, hurrying to help my husband feed the five dairy calves (Semi-Colon Linking Two Indepent Clause) I throw on clothes knowing they will be dirtied as soon as I walk out the door. At the door I was bombarded by three energetic animals. I walked quickly as I could with sleepy limbs. I opened the door to the parlor and got the calves bottles set up. Onward to make the powdered milk. The sweet smell of powdered milk wafts around me, making me think of the milk left in a bowl after all the sweetened cereal is eaten... my stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten.
The exreamly horrible dayI slowly opened my eyes to peer at my alarm clock. It read 7:30 am. Oh shit! I threw on clothes from the messy floor. I ran into the bathroom. As I looked at my reflection, my hair looked like a bird’s nest, and I had a huge zit on my chin; the zit screamed “LOOK AT ME!” against my pale complexion. Then I discovered the reason for my blossoming zit: My period had arrived. Could this day get any worse? As I ran out of the bathroom, I rammed my shin into a open drawer (Comma with introducer). Great--not only was I bleeding out of my crotch, my shin was now bleeding. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a yogurt and pop-tart. I rushed to get my bag and phone. It turned out my phone was on 10% battery. I ran to the pigsty I call a room and grabbed my charger. Then I was out the door. I ran to school as fast as I could with a backpack that makes me feel like a turtle--notice there wasn’t “Ninja” describing “turtle”.
The younger look alikeWhy did you leave me? What made it your time to go? Who will I eat Oreos with at 9:00 p.m., while we watch reruns of NCIS? (Rhetorical Question) Those recurring reruns that grandma got sick of watching? I felt a hand on my shoulder pulling me out of my reverie. I look at the man, seeing the marine blue eyes; he inherited them from the man I miss so much. His short hair is dark blond, almost brown, with a gray skunk-streak on the left side. His goatee is a mix of salt-and-pepper gray. I finally answer the man I call my father. I observe his outfit: it isn't his normal worn-out blue jeans, tacky, ugly Hawaiian shirt, and worn-out Docksiders. His outfit consists of a black, button-down, tucked into a tan pair of dress pants, and on his feet are the pair of worn out Docksiders--of course he is wearing them. That is my father for you.
The revenge Act “Oh, honey, I am so glad you are alright!” she practically yelled. She grabbed my head and pushed it against her fake chest. ( Commas in Dialogue)
I was grossed out first. Then it all came back: The van. The blow to my head. The dry blood covering my bare body lying on the ally floor. The flashes of pain. Those horrifying beings needed to be found so that the pain I felt would never be caused again. I wouldn’t involve the police. I needed to heal my damage by inflicting upon them the pain I felt. The pain they had caused. I became what I needed to be to take away the pain. To get my revenge. Quater horse congressWith every step I take, I hear a mumble of “sorry”; with each step, somebody is bumping into another body, who could be from another state, or even country. The tinkling of spur-rowels spun with each step on the gray, concrete floors is an under-lying melody to this, the largest single horse breed show in the world, also known as The Quarter Horse Congress (Dashes). “Congress”, as fans call it, runs the entire month of October at the Ohio State Fairgrounds in Columbus, Ohio. Here it doesn't matter if you're a Spartan, Wolverine, Buckeye, or Sooner: this is is all about horse-lovers. In this long, October month, 5,000 horse stalls are used. Around 5,000 horses are brought to compete against others from around the world. This convention pulls 180 million dollars into the local economy each year. Welcom to Quarter Horse Congress! A DOg's Point of View“She's home! She's home! I missed her so much! She was gone for so long! Is she trying to starve me? I cant believe she was gone for so, so long! (Comma with Interupter) She finally let me out of that stupid kennel.” Sniff. Sniff. “Why does she smell so weird? I mean, really, why?” All of a sudden, her voice boomed across the farm.
“ Doc! Stop sniffing me and get down!” She yelled. Why is she yelling at me? I am just greeting her? I missed my mom so much! She left me for so long. Why isn't she petting me? I need to be loved! Lick. Lick. “ Doc! Stop licking me! I already have enough slobber on me!” She yelled again. Please stop yelling at me. She grabbed out bags of groceries. Food! I am starving. Food! I run like the wind with my short, stocky body. WHat will the Future Hold? I pull into the driveway of my house. Since the first time I saw it, I knew I was in-love with it. It is a tan, ranch-style house, with a two-car garage, and a wrap-around porch. After I bought it, I built a 90 by 80 foot indoor arena with eight stalls (AWUBIS). The 10 acres of pasture is a healthy shade of green. I love that I get to call it home. I walk into the mud room and take off my shoes and drop groceries in the kitchen, then head toward my office. I drop off my work laptop and files, then head to my bedroom. I change into a pair of blue jeans and tank-top and grab my riding boots. As I head to the barn, I let out my dog. Like I told my mother all those years ago, “You will be only getting grand-dogs, not grand-kids.” I have stayed true to my word. I have one dog; his name is Norman. My husband got him for me as an early engagement present eight years ago. Life is Good.
The detication letterI dedicate this to all the horses that have dumped me, trampled me, stepped on my feet, bit me, rolled, reared and almost flipped backwards on top of me. All of those horses taught me how to ride, and made me the rider I am today (FANBOYS). Without those horses, I wouldn’t be where I am today with my equitation. I want to thank my mother, Kris Lauckner, who has believed I had it from the start. Even if I didn’t believe I could do it in the first place, Mom made me get back on, not allowing the horse to get away with that behavior. I also want to thank Tori Sheperd and Bailey Bennett for being the best friends a girl could have: You have put me in a good mood, even if I didn’t place in the class, and shown me what really matters: Friendship. It was better luck next time.
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AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
January 2018
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