Laugh Tracks in the Dust |

Laugh Tracks in the Dust

I’ve got an accumulation of odds and ends that have come to my attention or happened to me in recent weeks, but I haven’t gotten them into the column. So, here they are:

The high price of corn and other livestock feedstuffs is having a severe negative trickle down effect on livestock producers. Here’s a good example:

An Iowa farmer friend went to a local auction barn recently and a consignment of 120 healthy, bright-eyed 20-pound crossbred feeder pigs entered the ring.

The auctioneer tried and tried, but the best bid he could get wuz $5 per head. The sad thing is that the owner let the pigs sell for the paltry sum because he couldn’t afford to take them home and continue to feed them.

A portly farmer told me recently that he’s become so fashion conscious that he’s taken to wearing John Deere “designer jeans.”

When I asked him about his jeans, which looked like regular jeans to me, he grinned and said, “These are 40-20s.”

The Supreme Court finally ” in a five-to-four vote ” decided that the Second Amendment means just exactly like the framers of the Constitution meant ” that folks like you and me have the right to own guns for enjoyment and protection of life and property.

It should have been a unanimous decision, but at least it wuz a correct one in my opinion. The gun control folks are apoplectic about this turn of legal events. Tough! I’ve been having a fit about gun control laws for years.

It just proves the justices that presidents appoint to the Supreme Court do make a difference.

Kevin King, Cherryvale, Kan., passed along this heartening bit of news about the values a group of Montgomery County 4-H’ers recently exhibited.

The 20-some 4-H’ers and some non-4-H buddies planted 1,750 black walnut and oak trees for a farmer just south of Independence, Kan. They planted those 1,750 trees in about three hours, which is really smoking along.

Kevin included me in his e-mail as proof that not all of our future leaders are sitting in front of the television or computer screen. He says these kind of kids are going to keep rural America alive and well.

I agree with him and throw in FFA members to boot.

The scientists who put a robot on Mars says our neighboring planet has soil with a chemical makeup very much like some soils on Earth.

After the miserable way the soils in Damphewmore Acres gardens worked up cloddy this spring, I wish I could try some of those Martian soils. Couldn’t be much worse.

I went way back in time last week. I’ve got a little patch of alfalfa growing for my chickens to browse in. The growth got away from them and the alfalfa wuz thigh-high and in perfect condition for hay.

Well, I decided to store the alfalfa as loose hay for winter chicken browse. So, I got a neighbor who wuz swathing hay nearby to stop and swath my alfalfa and also three windrows of bromegrass. I wanted the brome for mulching my tomatoes and peppers.

Pitchfork in hand, I loaded the alfalfa on a trailer and pitched it into a little hay loft. Then loaded the brome and mulched with it. When those little jobs were done, I wuz drenched in sweat and full of appreciation for the hard work of my forebears who pitched all their hay by hand with a pitchfork. It also made me appreciate mechanical hay balers.

I got an e-mail video recently showing the air-powered car designs of two inventors ” one French and one Aussie. These vehicles operate with no fuel except for compressed air.

While these early inventions aren’t practical for rural use, they do have a range of more than 100 miles. If there’s any good to our current energy crisis, it will be the unleashing of the creative juices of folks who want to cash in on the problem.

Speaking of fuel prices, recently I asked a rancher who lives in a remote area if he worried about thieves coming to his ranch and stealing gas.

He replied, “Nope. It costs too much to drive out here and steal the gas. It would be a net loss for for them.”

The bane of my summer existence is chiggers. My rear end looks like I got shot by bird shot from all the chigger bites.

I know the Good Lord made everything for a reason, but I haven’t figgered out yet any good reason for the creation of chiggers, except perhaps to lessen my dislike for cold weather.

My story about ol’ Parker Looseley dunking his flatbed a couple weeks ago had an addendum. A few days after Parker’s accident, his brother got hopelessly mired bumper-deep in a boggy creek and called Parker for help to extract him from the muddy water.

While Parker waited for the brother to affix the chain to the stuck pickup, the brother’s cell phone dropped from his shirt pocket into the muck and ruined it. Of course, Parker gave his brother no sympathy at all.

I’ll get no sympathy from you tolerant readers if I keep this drivel up any longer, so I’ll quit for the week with these words of wisdom: Experience is the thing you have left when everything else is gone. Have a good ‘un.


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