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Bleubell
Posts: 457 Member
The Allison Legacy
One of the most prominent members of the American Old West was Clay Allison, a famous cattle-rancher and ruthless gunfighter... My name is Alana Allison and this notorious cowboy is my great-great-great-great-(great?)-grandfather.
The ways of the western have been passed down through the Allison family for centuries. The Allison family tree was firmly rooted in the dark, fertile earth of Appaloosa plains, the seed having been planted by Mr. Jeremiah Scotland and Mrs. Mariah Brown in the early 1830's. We Allison's still loved some good, quality horse-racing, farming, rodeos and maybe a good hoe-down once in a while.
I was a fighter, but not in the way my ancestor had been. I was a mental fighter - a super competitive jockey when it came to racing my 4-year old mare, Mare. It seemed to be that I was always able to summon enough will-power to pull out a win, but I also had an amazing horse to thank for the shiny gold trophies and medals covering the surfaces of my room. I was also known for being able to shoot a mean gun, whether it be a shotgun, rifle or a couple of pistols (true cowgirl!)
My family kept farm animals, which I woke up at five a.m before school every morning to take care of. I favored one crazy chicken name Shelley (get it? Shell-ey?) who *plum*-a-doodle-dooed right alongside the fore rooster of the coop every morn' at the *plum*-crack of dawn - see, we cowfolks have kind of a seafolk's mouth.
There was only one not-so-good thing happening in my life right now; my parents were highly sought-after theiving, counterfeiting, mischievous, plotting, criminals...
One of the most prominent members of the American Old West was Clay Allison, a famous cattle-rancher and ruthless gunfighter... My name is Alana Allison and this notorious cowboy is my great-great-great-great-(great?)-grandfather.
The ways of the western have been passed down through the Allison family for centuries. The Allison family tree was firmly rooted in the dark, fertile earth of Appaloosa plains, the seed having been planted by Mr. Jeremiah Scotland and Mrs. Mariah Brown in the early 1830's. We Allison's still loved some good, quality horse-racing, farming, rodeos and maybe a good hoe-down once in a while.
I was a fighter, but not in the way my ancestor had been. I was a mental fighter - a super competitive jockey when it came to racing my 4-year old mare, Mare. It seemed to be that I was always able to summon enough will-power to pull out a win, but I also had an amazing horse to thank for the shiny gold trophies and medals covering the surfaces of my room. I was also known for being able to shoot a mean gun, whether it be a shotgun, rifle or a couple of pistols (true cowgirl!)
My family kept farm animals, which I woke up at five a.m before school every morning to take care of. I favored one crazy chicken name Shelley (get it? Shell-ey?) who *plum*-a-doodle-dooed right alongside the fore rooster of the coop every morn' at the *plum*-crack of dawn - see, we cowfolks have kind of a seafolk's mouth.
There was only one not-so-good thing happening in my life right now; my parents were highly sought-after theiving, counterfeiting, mischievous, plotting, criminals...
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thank you thread
thank you thread
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