Saturday, January 21, 2012

Oh This Woolly Bully

When ever I see a bull run in Spain, I always wonder where the heads of these men are, who run on the street chased by so many. Even a Matador, alone in a ring, should not be there.
I feel bad for some of these bulls who are forced into fighting.
Personally, my experience with bulls on a farm was quite memorable.

I visited my cousins grand fathers' farm.
He was little maybe 1 and I was a big 5.
The farm was old. It had a muddy river running in the back which looked quite deep. You wouldn't want to fall into it.
Beside the river was a hammock strung between two trees .
Again, you wouldn't want to roll into the river, so you stayed away from the hammock. lol

The Grand father was a little old bald man. He was very kind and sweet and quite bullied by his wicked
He had two sons and both came for a visit. The other son had a girl and a boy who were either the same age or one year older than I was.
There was a long dirt road to get to the main road where the mail box stood and I guess we were going to check it.

The Grand Father kept trying to stop the other two children from running onto the road but they equally showed him disrespect by yelling at him and kicking him in the shins and still running towards the highway.
I remember feeling very sad for this old man, so I came and took his hand and we walked slowly together up the road.
Wherever he went, I followed him.
I remember they had an out house and it was quite stinky with many flies .
I didn't like that too much and always feared something would come out of that hole and grab me lol

But other things I really liked. He owned bee hives.
I stood and watched as he dressed up to go check them. I found these bees very interesting and would love to own a field of wild flowers, just to keep a few hives.
Bees are nice little guys and I prefer them to wasps. Once my third little cousin stepped into a nest of either wasps or bees.
She was bit so many times her Dad had to rush her to the hospital.
Whenever I saw any such wasps around my house I would take the hose and try to swamp their living quarters so they would find a new place to live.

The old man also had a barn with cows and we'd go into it to collect milk but at the entrance, in the first stall, they kept a bull with a ring through his nose. I called him raging bull.
Of course my Mother dressed me in red, so he did not like me at all.

When I walked in there, this huge black bull, began to dig his hoof into the ground and snort, lowering his head. I saw his long sharp horns and he scared the day lights out of me. I just stood and stared at him as he got angrier and angrier.
This is when the grand mother would begin to yell and chase me out of the

They only had a long piece of wood across the stall to stop him from coming out and this I remember thinking was not a good thing. It was nothing for him to break it and come through.

It was this same year in winter, that the old man went to the out house in the middle of the night and they found him on the cold ground in the morning.
He had a stroke and died.

The boys sold the farm and the grand mother went to live with the younger son in Montreal.
She wasn't my favorite grand mother. She had wicked looking eyes and she wasn't very kind to me either. So I didn't like it very much because she transferred all this bullying from her own husband, to my aunt, who was herself basically a new bride.
My aunt was a very beautiful loving woman.

I felt so sorry for the Grandfather and her son had a handful to handle coming home each night from work. She was very critical and reported every tiny thing to him.
Eventually she changed.
I don't think she had much of a choice cause no one wanted her. lol

I guess men in those days never argued with their wives cause my Grand Father was equally kind and gentle and this is why I thought he was a Saint.
My Uncle never argued with my Aunt.
If he didn't like something he'd go out for a smoke or into the garden to BBQ with a beer. lol
and if he did get mad on the rare occasion, he'd stick out his finger to point and his nose would lift high into the air but all he did was utter the persons' name and say: enough.

He looked so funny, no one ever took him seriously, so he was ignored, as life bustled around him.
This was the same guy whose pants I wanted to wet so he would not touch my Aunt. lol
Come to think of it, my husband is the same. Doesn't suit being mad.
If he gets mad, every one laughs.

I guess the same applies to comedians. They have a certain kind of face that is funny to look at.
Other people always look angry even when they aren't. Each of us is born to be spoken of, having more to do with what we look like, than anything else and this may also shape the kind of people we turn into.

When my cousin moved to New York, the grandmother went to live with her brother.
I went to New York to visit them one day.
I was a new driver with my own drivers' license . My aunt was in the process of trying to get her license with a learners permit.
She liked shopping so she'd say: Lets go for a drive.
So the kids all got in and we'd drive and talk and laugh.

It never dawned on me she didn't have a license to drive.
After a few days she said: You know, I like driving with you.
My husband yells all the time and with you we have a lot of fun.
Of course, not knowing she didn't have a full license, I didn't think to watch her driving lol
So we had a good laugh and I told her she was a great driver.

My Uncle then gave me his car and told me I could drive it to the store. I didn't want to take his car but he insisted so I took it.
I drove very carefully not wanting to smash it.
The last bit of road, beside their house, was narrow and quite winding.
I thought, if another car would come round the curve, I would not see it, so I kept closer to the right edge of the street, leaving two and a half feet from the solid line, separating the two sides of the road. This is not the way you are supposed to drive but something told me to do it.

This is why I say I have an Angel sitting on my shoulder and Guiding me.
Right at this moment, a speeding car came round the curve, on my side of the road.
Had I been driving normally, this car would have made a head on collision with my Uncles' car.
It would not have been pretty because he was going quite fast. I could have died.
He just continued and sped off.
I got home and told my Aunt and Uncle what a close call I had.

I was so surprised he was on my side of the road on this curve but for some reason I steered closer to the other edge.

Today I am left with memories and it's hard to believe, people you love, slowly disappear.

Bullying takes place every where, not just in a barn or the bull ring. lol

I think if I had a choice for a bull though, I would not choose the one shown above. I'd choose and nice heavy meaty bull, with big brown eyes, who would just be happy chewing his hay and smelling flowers.
They always say fat people are jolly
Maybe it pays to be fat. lol

I sure hope my family met up there and are enjoying themselves.
They are probably finding it funny, knowing what they do
about all our fights and struggles here on this planet.

Have a good one.


SandyCarlson said...

The running of the bulls is just plain stupid and cruel, I think. I enjoyed your post.

A Lady's Life said...

Thank you Sandy :)

Rob-bear said...

A warm and thoughtful family story. Thank you for sharing it.

Instead of having a bronze bull, or a meaty one, how about a cuddly, fluffy Bear?

A Lady's Life said...

Rob Bear Oh I had one for 18 years lol but stuffed animals aren't real live ones you can look at and pet or feed. They don't follow you around.
I love babies that run and play just like any baby. Living things are beautiful.

Gattina said...

That happens quiet often, a good grandpa and a witch as grandma ! Fortunately it was not my case.
I think bull fights are not allowed anymore in Spain, it is not a sport it's just a cruel game. I was always happy when a bull killed the Matador !

A Lady's Life said...

Gattina yes. It is a bit out dated this matador sport.I was thankful both my grand parents were nice.
That Grand ma also became nice towards the end. I think she realized what she did was not nice.

Hilary Melton-Butcher said...

Hi A Lady's Life .. you had lots of family and at least they could spread themselves around .. wonderful stories interspersed with sad ones too .. have a good week - Hilary

Hilary Melton-Butcher said...

Hiya - only me again! I'm wondering if you could do me a favour - I can't comment on Carol's blog - and saw you can and did ..

Could you please just add a comment on her blog - saying sorry that I cant' comment because she's got an embedded comment box - and Blogger is playing up for me .. and there's no email (nor do you!) .. so I can't comment that way:

Many thanks - appreciate your help.

Cheers Hilary

A Lady's Life said...

Hilary life is such that we have both good and bad . As time changes so do people and so we must always be patient with those who we love.:)