So sweet! They're so comfortable with each other. Wouldn't your dad be pleased to see the land nourishing someone who shares his gift?
St. Perpetua, parton saint of cows!Ok, so the saint was a 22 year old Roman noblewoman slain by the sword after sustaining injuries from a wild bull set on her in the gladiatorial arena. Not exactly what I'm triying to relate to! But Perpetua, the very speaking of the soothing name, the name that might envoke the perpetual movement and eternal sameness in your poems, seems to fit.
Perpetua - that does have a good sound! A favorite toast ~ "To our perpetual pleasure."It's great to see Bobby working with the cows - and odd, too - I didn't imagine anyone, except maybe a Masai, could be as into cows as my dad was.
I had to look it up but... part of Perpetua's passion (sprititual journey of change) was a vision of her brother in the after life. No wonder your poems and photography rang that bell (cow bell?)!
I remember Grandma telling me how Grandpa had compared her to one of his cows that gave him only female calves. She paused and thought about it for a moment with a smile and then assured me that from him a comparison to a cow was by no means an insult.You should scan some of the photos of Grandpa with his bulls and post them.
I told Bobby that story too. The quote was: (after having your mom & Ruth Ann -) "I bet you're just like a cow I had that would only have heifer calves." Ha! ~ I bet there are few women who would NOT have found that insulting, and funny besides!
Oh we name goats and such after family. A cow comparison, I'd relish. ALthough if I were a ewe or cow I would most likely be culled for low milk imput [just a hunch, no facts of past experience to back that up]...It's nice to see Bobby.
He says he'll only take a third of any profits for modeling...He he ~ you'd better rev up your production, girl!
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