Velociman tells a story about a bull his family once owned, and it reminded me of one of my families legends:
Grandma once told me how she met my grandfather. My grandmother was a teenager at the time, and my grandfather was a grown man. He was leading a bull to market, and it wasn't cooperating. Imagine a large farmer pulling a rope attached to a large bull's nose ring and the bull having nothing of it. Two steps forward, stop to grunt and pull, then a step back. Grandma was sitting on her father's front porch watching this happen out in the road. Finally, Grandpa Martinius had had enough. He shortened that rope up until he was close enough to that bull to touch it, drew back his fist, and punched him square between the eyes. Grandma says the bull went to its knees for a moment, shook its head a bit, then stood up and let Grandpa lead it along with no more issues.
Kind of explains a few things about me, actually.
1 comment:
Sometimes you have to get their attention first.
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