Ever had the privilege of being around a REAL stubborn bull? You just cannot make that bull do anything it doesn't want to do. I don't care WHAT you do, that bull ain't BurgerKing (yet!) and you ain't going to have it your way...it's his way or no way.

Well, my family had such a bull, and her name was Sue!

I don't have any idea where the stubborn streak came from. Maybe from my mother. Yep, I'm sure of it, it was a gift from Mom! Thanks a heap Ma!

Combine that stubborn streak with my father's warped sense of humor, and the ornery streak he has, and you have a combination for making a bull out of a little girl! Here are but a few examples.

I must have been about 10 years old. We had a great big weeping willow in our back yard. Fall comes and we literally have it all over our back yard. Yep, leaf raking time. Well down the hill about 500 yards from the back yard is a creek, right past the barn a ways. We had been raking leaves, and packing them down to the creek in metal five gallon buckets, one in each hand, and dumping them along the creek bank. I was tired! (And a bit lazy.)

We had a little Schwinn bicycle. You know one of those antiques from the 60's that only had coaster brakes. Well, I decided I wasn't packing anymore of those buckets full of leaves down that hill and trudging back up there. I was going to put them over the handle bars of that bike, and ride 'em down! That would have been okay probably, if the chain on the bike hadn't been broken. No chain...no brakes...steep hill...BIG trouble! Dad argued with me, said no I couldn't do that, but being the way I am I guess you know what happened next.

Yep, down that hill I flew! Now, the brake situation was bad enough, and I maybe could have handled that. What I couldn't handle was that right at the bottom of the hill (you know, where I was doing warp 5!), there was a gate. Not just any gate. A four strand barbed wire gate. And NOW, there was a gate, a small bike, two METAL buckets of WET leaves, and a child who was bleeding everywhere and making up new ways to swear without swearing, all heaped together on the ground at the bottom of the hill! To top that off, (as if that is not enough) there is this CRAZY man at the top of the hill laughing his ... well you know...off. Laughing so hard, that he could not help me. Ooooh, I was mad, I wanted to kill something. I saw red. I lost my temper. I had turned into a RAGING BULL!! But, stubborn won out. I picked that bicycle up and threw it, as far as a skinny 10 year old girl could, grabbed those now empty buckets and went back up that hill. Trying very hard not to show how hard I had been crying, how badly I hurt, and especially how mad I was. Did I mention, the fence was ELECTRIC? That I was getting zapped the WHOLE time my lovin' Daddy was cracking up? Of course it was just a trickle charge -- nothing that would seriously hurt me, and I can laugh about it today, but back then, I did NOT think it was funny!

I just went right back to work, muttering something dreadful about my mean, old dad the whole time!

Another time, I was outside playing, maybe the following spring. Dad called me over to the middle of the driveway, and he had that grin on his face. I had seen that grin before...and it meant trouble...for me!

He held out a piece of postal twine about 4 feet long, and grinned. He says "Bet I can make you run." "Bet you can't," I said defiantly. "Yes I can", he says, "and all I need is this piece of string." "No way!" says I. He tells me to put out my finger. I did! What an idiot!! You see, issuing me a challenge like that is like waving a red flag in front of a bull!

He quickly ties a slip knot in one end of the twine, and puts it over my finger. He slowly backs up from me, tightening the thread. It gets tighter...tighter...tighter, it starts to hurt, I am not moving. My feet are imbedded in that asphalt. He will not win. I am not moving. I am concentrating with all that is in me. I will NOT run!

My finger is hurting pretty good now, and it is really purple. He has that grin going really big now. I feel my feet move. NO! I am running! He is laughing! Oooooh, I am sooo mad!

My father has a wonderful sense of humor. He has his ornery streak for sure, but over the years either it has mellowed, he got tired, or he just ran out of pranks. He had six kids to harrass! He did buy a bull just a couple of years before I married and left home. And being his ornery self, and a Johnny Cash fan (Did I mention that they share the same birthday, so Dad thinks JC is his twin brother? *G*), yep, you guessed it. He named him Sue...

I love you, Dad!