Well now. I dunno where this came from… oh yeah, right. Once I found the good pic to go with, the story formed. How often do we read (or see movies) about the person who moves into a town and is not accepted? Not a fun proposition, I suspect. Click here to see more stories!.
Unwelcome
Is he gone, yet? I can’t bear to look at him!
Yeah. He’s leaving. I scared him off, good. I told him we didn’t allow his kind around here. I don’t know who he thought he was believing he could just fit in. His horns are not long enough; his coat is too short plus it’s black! Honestly. We are a close-knit community. He would have caused all sorts of problems.
That’s right. We don’t like newcomers thinking they can just move in and join us. They bring ideas and disrupt our peace of mind. Good riddance.
Love it, Dale. Made me laugh when I scrolled down to your photo. Brilliant 🙂
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😉
So glad it did!
Wasn’t sure if I should put the photos one after the other and then the story but, this seemed to work, too 😉
And it’s funny because my paternal grandfather raised long-horned cattle in BC – but I never knew him and obviously have no photos of him, either… Bummer.
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It worked well because we have to keep reading and scrolling to get to your visual punch line 🙂
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Love it.
So funny because yesterday when I saw the photo, I was going to write about my never-known grandfather but today… Nope!
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You made a good call 🙂
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Glad I did. I wanted to make sure my text was not racist but more related to small village close-mindedness…
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No problem there 🙂
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But now I want to hear about your grandfather. 😀
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Haha! I would like to, as well 😉
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Love this 💜🌈
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Thank you, kind lady. 🧡
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A pleasure 💜
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Thank you, Willow
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I was initially a bit perplexed, but that I relooked at the pics – then smiled.
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So glad you did, Frank 😉
It’s always a good sign when the reader takes a second look.
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🙂
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I love those photos. When I lived up in the mountains one of the neighbors had Scottish Highlands. I love them and took their pics every chance I got. 🙂 – Great post.
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I so wish I could have known my grandfather. He was a Highlander who moved to B.C. and raised them there. Alas, neither my father, so certainly not I, ever knew him…
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Not sure why my comment connected to my old blog. Weird. I fixed it. 🙂 – I’ve never eaten any Scottish Highland cows and never heard that my neighbors took theirs to the sale yard so now I’m wondering if they’re for eating and if not, what are they for?? Lol…
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I dunno… But you were in my spam!
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Oh, and year. Highland cattle are raised for their meat
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That’s interesting. I’ll have to see if my local ranchers have any.
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Excellent use of the prompt, Dale.
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Thanks, John. 😊
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Dear Dale,
Your characters are such beasts. Imagine treating outsiders like that? Great little allegory there.
Shalom and lotsa accepting hugs,
Rochelle
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Dear Rochelle,
Aren’t they, though? So closed-minded ..
Shalom and Lotsa fair love,
Dale
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This works so well because the words coming from the cattle could easily be said by people (and we’ve all probably heard similar type comments). And your photo is perfect, as it really does look like he’s walking away from the other two.
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So glad you thought so. It was exactly what I was trying to portray. Those closed-minded sorts…
When I found my pic, I knew where to go!
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Poor thing. Hardly the black sheep of the family!
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If he were, he’d be more welcome than some guy who just wants to join this community. Sad state of affairs, I tell ya
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Aww…rejection hurts! Snooty attitudes very well illustrated by your tale.
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Indeed! Just trying to find a new town to live in!
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LOL, seems we both went the way-of-the-cow-in-a-tizzy … 😉
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So to speak! 😉
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Yep, cow-speak … of course … 😉
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Of course. And only if you are from around here… 😁
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LOL! It sounds similar in the NYC (New York Cow) dialect … 😉
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Now now… You telling me New York does not welcome newcomers? I don’t guy it.
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Oh, New York does welcome newcomers. It is the people from OUTSIDE New York (or who prefer to say they are no longer New Yorkers …) who feel threatened by newcomers. Here, we’re pretty happy with newcomers AND we are fluent in understanding ‘bull’ … 😉
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Ah well… that is a whole ‘nother thing!
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yeah … 😉
If I hear ‘bull’ I tend to ‘have a cow’ … 😉
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Hahaha! Imma leave that one alone…🐄🐃
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😀
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😉
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…not to mention social distancing!!!!!! 🤣🤣😂🤣😂🤣
Poor guy… I feel for him! It’s as if he’s thinking “Oh, nobody wants me…. what will become of me… My intentions are good, really…”
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I know, right? Poor guy. All he wants is to be part of a herd…
😉
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awwww….. maybe he’ll have better luck with the next herd he sees! 😉
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I sure hope they are more welcoming to strangers!
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If not, I’ll go find him and invite him for tea!!!!!! 😉 😂🤣🤣😂🤣😂
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I sure would! 😛 😉 🙂 😀
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well, we can make a little gathering for him! 😉
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🙂
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I love the parallels of life imitating art imitating nature in your story.
Those pics… your words… perfect match!
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Thank you, Louise!
Somehow, when I found my picture to go with Crispina’s the story was born. And isn’t that how it is when you go to those small villages where everyone knows everyone’s business? They don’t take kindly to new folk…
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That they most definitely don’t. Suspicious of ‘outsiders’, they are like your two cows – closing ranks. 🙂
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Yes!!
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Very poignant, Thunder!
There’s a lot of truth behind the humour.
I’m very impressed how you rolled and roiled this story together!
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Thanks, Sorceress.
Indeed, there is. I surprised my own self!
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Q,
So glad this fella . . . steered things in a different direction. Because that’s what’s called . . . . taking the bulls by the horns. Okay, I’ll stop. See, I go away for a few days and doesn’t it feel as if I should have stayed away? LOL.
B
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B,
You couldn’t help yourself, eh? Much as I must respect your need for staying away – no, it does NOT feel like you shoulda stayed away. Don’t even,
Q
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I think WP disagrees with that assessment as they have been doing their damndest to keep me away from here today. Or maybe it’s the Gods.
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Have they? Wretched beasties, I tell you.
Oh! It might just be that! They are nefarious that way.
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They ARE nefarious, the bastids.
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A word for the file? 😉
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Done!
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MWAH!
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MUAH!
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😚
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😚
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Being somewhat nomadic, I can empathise with the black sheep/bull.
But the others should be wary because, according to the song, only black bulls fight…
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Then maybe they are right in shooing him away…
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I’ve been the black steer far too often over the years. Hard to believe now especially with the way my bangs looks these days. 😂
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Have you now? Yet, you have found a community that accepted you 😉
Oh tell me about it…
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My community al has 4 feet-and tend to be less judgmental. 😍
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They are definitely the most loving and non-judgmental ones out there.
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Nice response to the challenge. Poor black cow in your pick. People in northern New Mexico are very much like that. If family members leave the community for a few years and try to return, they are often not accepted. When we lived in Spain, we ran really learned a lot about closed communities. However, here’s a story with a good ending.
While we were living in Madrid, Spain an old woman heard me playing guitar with the Bishop of the Spanish Reformed Episcopal Church (that’s a very long story), and insisted I go join a group that played together at the Casa De Canarias in Madrid. I told her I couldn’t just walk in and say “I’m joining your group” because 1) I was a total stranger. 2) I was an extranjero (foreigner). She told to tell them Aura sent me. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I showed up and said: “Aura sent me!”
The leader was very suspicious of me, but before he could throw me out I asked about the various lutes and other stringed instruments the musicians had, plus I noticed they were out of tune. I had a tuner and asked if they would like me to try and tune their instruments. I asked them to write down the tunings for each instrument and give them to me. They jotted the tunings down on napkins and other scraps of paper, tucked them under the strings, and piled 15 instruments on the table in front of me, then the group left me alone and headed to the bar. Each instrument had anywhere from 5 to 21 strings. Tunning them was quite a job.
About 45 minutes later, the group came back, picked up their instruments, and were happy to hear their instruments in tune. The leader warmed up a little, gave me a folder of music, and had me play with the group. The music was difficult and the rhythms were a real challenge, but I played well enough that they fit me into a costume, and insisted I play with them at a performance the next night. I became the group’s official instrument tuner and performed all over the Provence of Madrid and in Sevilla with the group for two years.
I figured Aura’s word would only go so far, and I wasn’t going to overwhelm them with my charm, but I figured I could at least make myself useful for imposing myself on them — useful worked in the end.
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Thanks, Timothy! Sometimes with Crispina’s challenges I get an ah hah! only after I’ve trolled through my photos. When I saw this and the direction “my” cow was going in, the story was born.
As for your story. That was absolutely wonderful. Aura opened the door for you but you proved your worth. Love it.
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Haha. Great take on the prompt 😄
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Thank you!
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