Ha ha haaa... It's not a metaphor!... My mother's family is from this town (not my father, he came from Caracas and fell in love with my mom and stayed here)... So, My mother's family owned farms, they had some cattle and it was common here to carry a weapon... In fact, I grew up seeing my uncles and cousins carry weapons on a daily basis, my two younger sisters also knew how to shoot weapons (including Angelica (the oldest), continue using the old Smith & Wesson Cal. 38 revolver which my mother carried in her bag until a few years ago... I never used weapons (I'm a "weirdo" in my family, I never liked horses or weapons and at 25 I became a vegetarian and almost killed everyone in my family with a nervous breakdown) but it's a long story... As you say, maybe one of these days I'll write all that... ha ha ha. .. But it's something strange... I confess...

Regarding the Gita... Well, if it is written that you have to read it, surely it will come to you almost by magic... I am sure of that... I remember perfectly how that book came to me... My father came from a trip to the airport and came home grumbling that "some guys with shaved heads and orange clothes made him buy a book"... haaa haaa haaa... Then he threw the Gita on the dining room table, my mother took it and threw it placed on a shelf full of books... Then, during one of my periods of "bronchitis and asthma" (I was sickly as a child) I started reading it... I guess I was lucky... Anyway... That maybe it had to happen...;)

Sending hugs and wishing you a great, great, great week!!!... (And also for your near people)...

!PIZZA