Grandson Ethan (Buffalo nickname=Red Chief) in a rare still moment at Easter dinner. I may bring him out to the Buffalo Holy Thursday trail run this week and introduce him to the herd and trail running.
My son the Timster with his Easter basket. He's still my baby boy. His big sister, the Princess, worn-out mother of the raucous Red Chief, was camera shy.
Aficionado of the American buffalo and proud member of the Buffalo Warriors, a herd of beer-swilling trail runners and some of the finest humans and criminals on the planet.
"If you were looking for the definitive symbol of the conflict between the cultures that had existed in the American West for at least ten thousand years, and maybe longer, and the culture that was just a building East of the Mississippi River, this culture of technology, of commerce, of grasping after tomorrow before it arrives, you couldn't come up with two more powerful symbols than the Railroad, and the Buffalo, because when the Railroad met the Buffalo, the Iron Age met the Stone Age, the machine arrived in the garden, and the West was changed for ever." - T.H. Watkins
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