Milo Yield: Laugh Tracks in the Dust 7-14-14

I’m starting to write this column late on the Fourth of July — Independence Day! And a wonderful day it was — plenty of family and friends, scads of fireworks, and way-y-y to much to eat and drink.

Founding Father John Adams would have been proud of the way the Yield family upheld his vision for celebrating the birth of the United States of America with feasting and illuminations.

This has been a weird week weather wise. Monday and Tuesday were so hot and humid that I broke into a full sweat just from the exertion of licking my lips. Then Wednesday, Thursday and Friday were wonderfully cool and dry with high temps in the 70s twice and 80s today. I can’t remember a three-day stretch of such cool, delightful weather in early July (and I’ve experienced a lot of Julys).

You’ll recall that I mentioned that I accidentally burned part of the 24-inch plastic drainpipe that runs through the dam of my pond here at Damphewmore Acres. Well, this week I found out how expensive that little lapse of mental focus really was. The bill came to just around $1,000 to buy the pipe and get it reset in the dam. I could have had a lot of fun with that cash if I’d just taken 15 seconds to monitor the fire a little more closely. It probably wuzn’t the dumbest or most expensive thing I’ve ever done, but surely it’s close.

The grasshopper invasion is going full-bore here at Damphewmore Acres. The chicken flock has done a fair job so far keeping the hopper pests at bay, but they will eventually lose the battle — too many hoppers, too few beaks and gizzards. However, some of the garden crops are already or nearly mature and will escape the onslaught — like potatoes, onions, green beans, peas, broccoli and, I think, sweet corn. It’s the late crops like the summer greens, pole and lima beans, and the tomatoes that will be a summer long battleground.

The cloud of grasshoppers that fly up in front of my ATV and lawnmower made me wish someone would invent a “Hopper Vac” with a powerful vacuum on it to suck the hoppers into it and on into oblivion. I even searched the internet for such a mechanical control device, but came up empty.

One of the old-timers at our weekly Geezer Breakfast and Coffee said he could remember from his youth that farmers mounted a trough containing several inches of kerosene (with some kind of deflector on the top and sides) to the front of their vehicles and drove through the fields catching hoppers and drowning them in kerosene. That was a good idea, but I think a Hopper Vac is a better one.

A rural preacher was standing at the pulpit giving his Sunday sermon when a note was passed to him. The only word written on the sheet was IDIOT.

Looking up at the congregation, the preacher smiled and said, “I have heard of men who write letters and forget to sign their names, but this is the first time I have seen a man sign his name and forget to write the letters.”

Thanks to Colorado friends for this funny.

A grizzled old farmer walks into a bar, approaches the barman, and asks, “Could I have a glass of Less, please?”

“I’m sorry sir,” the barkeeper replies, looking slightly puzzled, “I’ve not come across that one before. Is it a beer or a distilled spirit?”

“I’ve no idea,” replies the bleary-eyed, red-nosed farmer. “The thing is, I went to see my doctor last week and he told me that I should drink Less.”

A young farmer came home from a long day in the hay field and noticed that his wife had left a note on the fridge.

The note read: “It’s not working! I can’t take it anymore! Gone to stay with my mother.”

The farmer opened the fridge, the light came on, the ice-maker was working and the beer was cold. He thought to himself, “What the heck is she talking about?”

On the subject of marriage, an exhaustive survey of police records going back for decades show that no woman has ever shot her husband while he was doing the dishes.

After putting her grandchildren to bed, a rural grandmother changed into old slacks and a droopy blouse, took out her false teeth and proceeded to wash her hair.

As she heard the children getting more and more rambunctious, her patience grew thin. Finally, she threw a towel around her head and stormed into their room, putting them back to bed with stern warnings. As she left the room, she heard the 3-year-old say with a trembling voice, “Who was that?”

Time to put a wrap on this column with a wise quote about grandchildren. Lois Wyse said, “A mother becomes a true grandmother the day she stops noticing the terrible things her children do because she is so enchanted with the wonderful things her grandchildren do.” Wise Wyse words indeed.

Have a good ’un. ❖