Me and my Best Friend Growing Up used to frequent a place that was in a nearby town called Fuller's or Runnymede Farm. When I was a kid they had a herd of cows and used to sell fresh milk in a tiny store on the property.
I can remember going in there and getting a pint of chocolate milk, in a glass bottle, and then bringing home bigger bottles for the family. I used to wake up early on Saturday mornings and have a bowl of cereal with that fresh milk. In the summertime, I'd pick some local raspberries first and have a bowl of Cheerios with the raspberries and fresh, whole milk. Mmmmm.
We used to fish on the property, climb around the haylofts, help with milking the cows, and play with the goats. The only grown up that ever set any guidelines asked us to stay away from the horse barns and we did. Everything else was fair game...including the bull enclosure.
The bull lived in a cement paddock with high walls made of metal bars. Inside the barn was a smaller enclosure and his feeding trough. The trough had steel bars on either side of it and the bull had to fit his head through there to eat.
We would climb up the wall of the feeding trough, while he was outside, and see how close to the floor on the other side we dared to get before he came running and crashed against the bars of the feeding trough. It was also a trust test because we had to rely on each other to yell if he was coming while we watched our footing climbing down the other side.
I shake my head at the sheer stupidity of what we did, now, but back then we were just having fun. After a while, the bull would get mad enough and not leave the feeding area so we'd move along and do something else there instead.
Posted by bbarton at May 4, 2005 11:29 AMI'm glad you dropped by again!
I'm glad you like the story. Us old people all start sounding alike after a while. ;)
Posted by: Bob on May 4, 2005 12:37 PMMy Dad the farmer has a healthy respect for bulls; he's been dealing with them all his life. He told me once, if walking through a paddock where there was a bull, to always make sure I could get to the other side of the fence before the bull could get to me. I don't think he'd be in favour of small boys taunting them, really... though there's a good chance he might have done the same sort of thing himself when he was a kid.
I miss that childhood feeling of being indestructible. My sisters and I didn't mess with bulls, but we did other stupid things on the farm and never thought twice about danger. Never got seriously hurt either. A miracle, really.
Posted by: Deirdre on May 5, 2005 03:20 AMI know what you mean, Deirdre, that feeling of being indestructible. Life was certainly more care-free then but I have more money now, and a car...so I guess it is a fair trade. :)
Posted by: Bob on May 5, 2005 06:39 AM
hi! i somehow found your site, through another site that we both read, but i've had you bookmarked for so long, that i don't remember which site that was!!!
very cute story - sounds like the storys my mom tells my sister and i!
Posted by: erin on May 4, 2005 11:37 AM