Fieldstone Farms
Oh I was so humiliated. At age seven, with my own pony at Fieldstone Farm, I was certain that I should ride the bucking donkey at the fair. Eluding my Fathers grasp, I slipped quickly toward the clown who led me around the ring. The donkey bucked no once, yet the little lady was offered the five-dollar prize. My feelings were hurt. My pride was destroyed. The only recourse left was to decline the five dollar bill and determinedly return to my seat.
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