J is for Jug


In 1978 when we were leaving the UK a family member said my little children could take a cow jug they owned but we had so much stuff and I thought it would only get broken on the way so I said we couldn’t take it. Over the years my children castigated me for not letting them bring it until as adults they wrought their revenge by plying me with black and white cow things. So began the “Cow War” which continued with different cow paraphenalia being “gifted” between us until we finally called a truce. This jug was part of the family “cow war”.


Author: macmsue

I’m a sister, wife, mother, grandmother, auntie and friend. I prefer to be outside and am interested in photography, nature and different cultures. I believe everything on this earth has a right to be here but some things and some people would be happiest if their space was far away from mine. (Flies and biting bugs take note!) I don’t like housework and think dust is Nature’s way of saying, “This is my space, I was here first.”

So, what do you think?

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