AH IT'S CHRISTMAS, THAT SPECIAL TIME OF YEAR

On Wednesday morning past, the forecast was for freezing rain late in the day to continue through out all day on Christmas Eve.  Thoughts always turn to the loss of power when they forcast freezing rain.  By Christmas morning we had escaped (we thought) because the rain had quit just before the temperature began to drop below 32 degrees.  At least we wouldn't lose our power but we still had heavy snow coming for two days accompanied by three days of high winds.
We called the sons in Lincoln  and told them that Christmas was postponed a day. Actually we left the decision up to them. I explained the worst that could happen is that would be snowed in with me for three or four days.  Dan was unwilling to take that chance.
Christmas Eve services were called off at church, we let the Courthouse close for the whole day, and we had the snow blower tractor plugged in and ready to  clear the area.  Everything was great.
So, on Christmas Eve, our daughters family came down the lane for a little party. The power went out. The blizzard was raging outside. Information from the neighbors indicated that the kennel was also out of power.
We sat and layed in our living room all night where there was enough auxillary heat to keep it about 55 degrees.  (a propane heater on the porch that will kind of heat the house if you open the window.) We started the blower tractor and let it run all night knowing that it wouldn't start if it weren't plugged in.
The first pic is of me, about 6 AM on Christmas.  Marilyn thinks I'm out there clearing snow so I can get my generator out of the shed, loaded onto the pickup, and hooked to the power pole behind the house.
I am in fact doing that, but mainly I'm trying warming up in the tractor. It has a great heater and the house was cold when I left Marilyn and the grandchildren sawing logs under a lot of blankets.

In the pioneering spirit, I got out and did what needed to be done first thing Christmas morning, I hooked up the generator, and then dug out the satelite dish so the big screen would work. We have had to clear snow from the dish several times before but we've never come close to having to dig our way down to it through the snow.

The pic above on the right is of the dog getting ready to help me unload my small snow blower so I could load my generator. On the left is proof that we were successful in our labors. Our power came back on at noon on Christmas day. The only casualty was a ballast on one of our flourescent fixtures in the kitchen. I don't think it appreciated the 149 volts of power my generator was putting out. The ballast is now replaced, we continue to blow out our lane everyday because the stinking wind won't go down, and Christmas is going to happen next Saturday. Maybe.

The Art Of Gift Giving

Cliff Morrow

Midwest Producer

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Christmas was almost torture for little boys, as I recall. I always had trouble getting to sleep because of course the presents under the tree would make my imagination run wild. I do not recollect that the black and white television we had had indoctrinated me into wanting anything in particular except possibly a Cowboy Bob gun and holster set which I did receive from Santa one Christmas.

Our tree would be surrounded by presents of every shape and size. Mom wasn't into elegant gift wrapping. She didn't have the time to do that. She was a farm wife and I think her main goal was the same as mine is today, to disguise the gift. That's all. To camouflage whatever was in the package.

After I had learned to read well enough to figure out what my name looked like on a tag, I became very sneaky about casually laying down by the tree and glancing over at the gifts to see if maybe my name was on one of them. Sure enough, I always had a few gifts that said TO: Cliff FROM: Mom and Dad. That information - that my name was actually there under the tree - would make it hard to get to sleep for the next five or 10 nights before Christmas.

I don't recall my age when I started wanting to reciprocate with the gift giving but it finally happened and I told Mom about it. She would remedy this by taking me along to town the next time she went grocery shopping. Somehow I had a dollar in my Cowboy Bob billfold and would have my head on a swivel in search of a gift.

Mom stopped in front of the chocolate covered cherries and told me a story about how her mother always loved them and as a matter of fact, they were Mom's favorite too. "Well, let's buy some" I would say and she would reply "They're 59 cents, maybe next time."

Hey, I have a plan, I would think to myself, and as Mom was checking out I would circle back to the candy section and grab a box of chocolate covered cherries. Somehow my Mom would lose track of me and stand at the front window of the store and stare out, looking to see if Cliff had already gone out to the car. That gave me enough time to take my box to the cashier who was always discreet about my gift purchase and would carefully bag the box and give me my 41 cents change before Mom turned around to see her six-year-old buying a box of candy. Probably the best part was being able to get to the car and into the house back at the farm, without Mom noticing that I was carrying a small bag of groceries.

Mom got chocolate covered cherries for Christmas and her birthday for several years in a row. They were the most thoughtful and best gift she had ever received. At least that's what she said. Mom was always very happy and sometimes moved to tears when she opened them. But not as proud and happy as I was to be standing there and watching her open a gift I had thought of myself.

A lot of water has passed under the bridge since those days and I'm afraid I haven't been able to think of a gift to give anyone, to make them as thrilled as Mom was with those cherries. Mom did understand the true meaning of Christmas and showed it. She truly knew how to give and receive as well as anyone I ever knew. I think sometimes we aren't very good at the receiving part, as we could be.

A few years ago, I stopped by a live nativity scene to watch and ponder what was going on. The center of attention was the real baby they had laid in the manger. Even the livestock they had hauled to town seemed to realize that something special was happening in the center of it all.

Contemplating the scene made me realize that Mom hadn't invented gift giving at its finest.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

When I need to get into the Christmas spirit, I watch this video. The soloist is David Phelps. I've been a tenor all of my life but when I listen to him sing it makes me feel like maybe I shouldn't try.
This version of 'O Holy Night' has a brief story at the beginning but if you'll watch the video to the end I think you'll see why I like it. I do believe there was a deal made between God and David for that voice and its use.
If you want to hear a bit more from this artist, look for the song 'The End of the Beginning' by Phelps. There are a lot of versions of these songs on youtube but you'll need to look to find the one with the best quality.

Views From The Porch

The weather outside is frightful, but inside it's nice but I didn't have time to be in there much.
The global warming dropped about 10" on the area last night and then the 50 MPH winds took over.
Marilyn snapped this pic as I was beginning to coax one of my John Deere's into running in this cold weather.

Most of the fields had blown clear and the snow more or less went until it found my place to pull up and rest a while.  Here I'm trying out the snow blower I bought last year.  It's a good idea to stay upwind from this machine. I'm supposed to be in Lincoln at a convention but our roads were plugged.  School will resume one day soon.

THE DOG FIGHT

What are the chances that on our farm, we would have the two most worthless dogs in America. Don't get me wrong, they like being dogs. They love being petted, playing, running, barking and they'll sneak a quick lick to your hands right when you least want it.
The problem is that they love to spar with each other. I just finished harvest which included a lot of time watching our auger here at the home place. All of the days I spent watching my grain bins fill, the dogs spent fighting with each other. When one would take off on the run toward a cat, the other dog would take the first dog down from behind and then they would growl and roll in the dirt, take turns getting each other by the neck and then the process would reverse.
They would trade places taking the dominate roll and the other one would end up on top with her mouth on the throat of the one, now on her back on the ground. They would sometimes stand on their back legs and face each other and fight standing up like they might be practicing for Dancing With The Stars.
Very seldom did they get serious enough to actually mean what they were doing. The funny thing is that while they fought, the cats were eating their food and any wild animal that cared to, could have strolled on to the property unnoticed.
The two really don't do a very good job of protecting the farm. But then again, it's our fault. We took them in and failed in any attempt to make them accountable. We got what we deserved.
As you've probably already guessed, I'm talking about our politicians. They seem to love to wrestle and fight and snarl and take turns grabbing their opponents by the throat when they should be talking out the problems related to the latest in legislation.
Just a little bit of give and take would have made the current health care bill palatable to 75 or 80 of our senators and this could have been over with.
Instead, they all want to be the top dog and have it their way. I personally don't think we want our federal government with more involvement in the medical profession. Governments of any size seem to be good at helping citizens with police protection, educating the next generation, and building and maintaining roads.
They go astray when they delve into any social program that requires taking money from one citizen to give to another. The money always seems to disappear before it gets to its target.
I'm guessing Congress could get everybody covered with a bill 50 pages long instead of one that is more than 2,000 pages long. The long version adds more and more layers of bureaucracy. It adds layers upon layers of folks who aren't accountable to anyone, or at least anyone you could find if you needed to.
I think the insurance companies, although partially at fault, shouldn't shoulder all of the blame. The best way for me to explain it is if you traded cars every year since 1950. Ignoring the effect of inflation, you would still need to add more money each of those 60 years because the product got better each year. Then add in inflation and that's how we got there.
Likewise, I don't care to return to a time when aspirin and penicillin are the two things doctors had to offer. I appreciated not being able to remember my operation for cancer because we now have anesthesia. I also am thankful for my insurance company who paid for the $100,000 worth of chemo drugs my doctor tried to kill me with. (At least I thought that at the time.) It all saved my life some 15 years ago.
We're not that far off of our mark. Let's regulate insurance a bit to make it competitive, get serious about tort reform, help those who need help with insurance coverage and then get out. There'll always be time later for rolling around in the dirt and grabbing each other by the throat.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

If you have the time, please stop by my latest column over at the Midwest Producer Magazine. We could use the 'clicks' if you have the time to look around the site for a while.
I hope your Thanksgiving Day will be filled with the gratitude due our Creator.

The 2009 Crop Year Has Been Put To Bed

As of yesterday, Nov 22nd, it was officially too late to be picking corn.
We do still have everything full of corn. Examples would be the semi, the straight truck, the combine, and the auger wagon. But it's all inside buildings so not to worry. At least we're done.
The corn harvest was a record breaker in this area due to the copious amount of rainfall throughout the summer.
The soybean yields were also above average.
The planting was timely. The early growth was excellent. The early harvest period was tedious because the crops wouldn't dry down in the field.
We finally wore the growing season out.
I need 10 days of dry weather for field work. (which we probably won't get)
We have important folks coming for lunch on Thursday so we might just take the whole darned day off.
If ths seems like a dumb post...remember who wrote it and keep in mind it's really a diary entry for my future reference.
But best of all, Marilyn has laid in a supply of whipping cream.

Practice, Practice, Practice!

From Hudson I've learned that if you want to be able to have great facial expressions...You'll need to practice.

1958 Allis Chalmers D-14

The big city life just wasn't meant to be for 'Spooky Ol Allis' but she came back from the tractor beauty parlor looking pretty good.

This tractor was purchased new by my father back in 1959. Here it is pictured a long way from home in the parking lot of Morrow Collision Center in Lincoln, NE. My son's own and operate this shop.

The tractor spent most of it's years on the farm hooked to a feed wagon. Most years it was busy feeding cattle from October to the following May when the fattened cattle were usually sold. It has always spent it's summers mowing weeds in and around the farm.

Here she has been dismantled a bit and is in the early stages of sandblasting.

Here they have moved it inside to begin the process of replacing several seals that were leaking. "Dad, you can't put a nice paint job on a tractor that is going to be leaking oil all over." Point taken.

They've moved it into the paint booth for the beginning of the painting process. They first applied an epoxy primer to ensure good adhesion of the final coats.

The gauge cluster was one of the first things to be finished. They obtained many new OEM gauges to make the old tractor look as it did when it was new. They ordered new, custom wiring for the tractor and installed it, making allowances for the alternator that had been installed by me years earlier. It originally came out with a generator.

They've brought it back into the booth and taken off the wheels for the main frames' two coats of paint. It was a single stage urethane. Very costly paint but my son guaranteed it would outlast me, and him and his children.

A picture of son Tom after finishing one of the final coats. They did apply three coats to the seat and running boards for extra protection in high wear areas. Tom is in the space suit.

Here I'm seen making good use of visiting hours. Son Dan on the right.

The tractor is completed here and secured to their trailer. My two sons pose for a nice photo before it leaves the big city for it's life back on the farm.

The first driver back on the farm is Colton, our grandson who lives here on the same farm. He is now the fourth generation of Morrow's to operate this tractor.

Daughter Juli and I pose with the Allis. Juli uses the tractor now for mowing road ditches. Or at least will when the goody wears off of the restoration.

Marilyn was impressed with my 'like new' tractor. I thought she looked a bit excited like she wanted a kiss or something.

I guess not.

Hold Up

Lovely day. Steady light to moderate rain. Forty degrees. North wind @ 35 to 40 mph. We are at 2" of rain and counting.
The lower fields were already too wet. We'll likely have to wait for the ground to freeze to finish harvest. After Christmas. But look at the bright side... okay, there isn't one.
This all reminds me of the two farmers talking: "If it keeps raining so we can't harvest, I'm going to need to rob a bank."
The other farmer replies: " If it keeps raining, I've already robbed a bank."

All I can say is "Put your hands up!"

MY NEW FRIENDS

Midwest Producer
October 23rd Edition

I’ve found new ways to offend people without leaving my computer. It started about three weeks ago. It began the day I feared that my eyesight was failing me on a permanent basis. I sat down to check email. I did get some email. I get a lot of email because I have just two options on filtering email through my service provider. I had the choice of Option A: Don’t allow anything to get through to your inbox, or Option B: Allow absolutely everything. I apparently clicked on the everything option.
The day in question I couldn’t focus on the email, everything was blurry. No matter how many times I held my readers up to the light and re-cleaned my left lens, I couldn’t get it clean. The right one was fine. Clean as a whistle. I cleaned the left lens over and over and looked at the computer between each attempt. It was still very blurred. I began to think of the diseases that suddenly take your eyesight when you near 60 years of age. Was this the end of my visual years? Was I destined to look at life as one big impressionist painting? No by golly! I got up from my desk and stepped on something. It was the right lens from my glasses, problem solved.
I found a different pair of glasses and things were better. I then started deleting email as is my habit but found a couple of letters from a computer at a company called Facebook telling me that certain people, people I knew, wanted to be my friends. All I had to do was confirm by clicking here and I’d be on my way to Facebook.
I decided not to click on these letters from friends for the same reason I won’t click on the ones from Xynana and Carlah and Bob W offering to take me off their list if I’ll just click here. Or the folks with stranger names offering good times in faraway places with Tonya. The two Viagra ads I get everyday get deleted. Don’t tell him but I do that without asking my Doctor if I’m healthy enough to delete them. My wife says I am healthy enough to delete them.
No, these new emails are from the new friends at Facebook that I didn’t even know I had. After asking, I found that my wife had signed us up on Facebook in order to look at pictures on Facebook that her brother from Texas had published. So I therefore, did indeed, have a Facebook account.
What does that mean? As far as I know, without my knowledge or consent, I now have about thirty friends waiting for me to confirm that I’m their friend. I’m getting more friends daily. I guess I should call these friends of mine but I don’t have the phone numbers I’m going to need to call and tell them that I like them too. I must be hurting their feelings.
I called my son in Lincoln for help. He owns a body shop and has hundreds of friends and customers on Facebook. Turns out he doesn’t need his Dad as a friend. “It’s just wouldn’t seem right Dad, but you should learn how to use the account.”
I said, “Dan, I’m on the county board, I wouldn’t feel right about telling everyone what I’m up to every minute of the day.” He said, “You’re in the phone book Dad, everyone knows where you live, you’ve been there for almost 60 years now.” “Get over it and get on with the future.”
Well I feel guilty about all of these folks wanting to be my friend and me not responding. If I do learn to do this, what would I say? What could I write? Let me practice. Let’s see, I would write:
Me: I’m writing my column for the Midwest Producer.
You: What are your columns about?
See! I was afraid someone would ask me something I couldn’t answer.
I liked computers better when I only had the one lens.

Societal Insanity

You've all probably heard about the New York Eagle Scout who has been suspended for first 5 days and then an additional 15 days for having a 2" pocket knife locked in his survival kit which was locked in the trunk of his car which was parked on school property.
The same people who made this hard and fast rule against weapons of any kind, would be defending his rights if he had been attempting to perform late term abortions with it in the backseat of that same car. At least he would have had the ACLU to help him in court.
Every good parent knows that judgement, discretion, and common sense must govern the administration of every hard and fast rule.
Hopefully this kid will achieve his goal of attending a US Military academy. I would follow him into battle at any time and trust him with the future of this country.
As for the Superintendent and his school board...I wouldn't follow any of them to a restroom.
cm

Great Article

If you have two extra minutes I would encourage you to read this article written by my boss, Terry Anderson at the Midwest Producer.

The Nobel Peace Prize

President Obama has won the Nobel Peace Prize.
**
He says he was surprised.
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I'll bet he was.

**
When the President travels to Oslo to accept the prize, I'm guessing the Secret Service will have Kanye West under observation.

Eating The Bait

Midwest Producer
9-11-2009 Edition

September is my favorite month of the year; that is until October arrives on the scene. The farm sort of goes into a holding pattern while we wait for crop maturity to get here. It affords the opportunity to do things you’ve put off all summer, like fishing. We wanted to go fishing this afternoon so after church we hustled home and hooked the boat onto to the Chevy and headed for the levee. (Sorry, I just about broke into song there) The pontoon boat that we purchased last winter didn’t have a depth finder and that explains why we hadn’t caught any fish the first few times we had the boat in the water. Any self respecting fisherman is aware that you must know the depth of the water before making a good presentation of the bait. Presentation in food is everything, right? I know I heard Julia Childs say that back in her days and I’m sure it also applies to catfish.
We had zero fish to show for our first two times out and that only served to validate my need for a trip to Cabelas for a depth finder. I didn’t need anything fancy. I just wanted to know the depth and I wasn’t planning on trying to find sunken treasure boats or the Titanic. “The cheapest one you’ve got will do me just fine, I already know how to fish.” I said smugly. The man wanted to sell me one with GPS and mapping capabilities so I could easily return to a new found hot spot any time I needed to. “Nope,” I told him “I’ll just paint an X in the bottom of the boat if I have a need to mark the spot. No sense of humor for this guy. I bought the cheap one.
Well I must say it was a pretty nifty installation I performed yesterday and it worked flawlessly. I proudly pronounced that we had eight feet of water right behind the boat as we pulled away from the dock. We hit 18 feet and I shut the motor down and gave the command to drop anchor. As Marilyn sighed she said, “I suppose you want me to do that” as she went to the front to ease the anchor down into the water, she asked if this was the depth we were looking for. “Yep this should be perfect.” I was confident, I am the Captain after all.
I repeated those same words over and over throughout the afternoon as we tried 12 feet and 22 and eight and everything in between. We used worms and chicken livers as well as commercial prepared bait and not to mention a feather covered varmint from the bottom of my tackle box. We anchored some. We drifted some. Not a nibble.
Before long I had yielded to the temptation of that big couch across the back of the boat. I stretched out and before falling asleep in that crisp autumn air; I explained the big mistake we had made to my still eagerly fishing wife. “Catfish will bite on chicken livers and night crawlers but we should have brought bait shrimp along too, they love shrimp.
“But we didn’t have any bait shrimp at home,” she replied. I said, “No but we have that two pound package of ‘people shrimp’ in the freezer, the ones we’ve been saving for something special.” “We could have dipped one of those shrimp in the lake to find out that the catfish weren’t biting and dipped the rest of them in cocktail sauce.”
We now have a plan for next time and I’ll bet we won’t care how deep the water is.

What About Ralph

Most of you know Ralph of Homespun Headlines fame. He's a good friend of mine. Our wives think we have nothing in common but they don't need to know everything. I talk to Ralph on a regular basis. That means 4 or 5 times one week but maybe once in the 2 weeks after that. We usually pick up right where we left off. Ralph isn't afraid to give is word on something and when he does he keeps it. That's what this post is about.
This is Char getting ready to 'net' Ralph who appears to be bringing in the big one. They're standing in the front of our boat. The picture was taken 9 days ago.

Here is Ralph making breakfast in the cabin we rented for the weekend.

Here is our traditional goodbye picture we always take one. We always stand in this order. I'm on the Right, Marilyn is in white and the other two are Ralph and Char.

I bring all of this up because they had to drive about 6 hours to get to this spot which is about half way between our homes. He took Char home Sunday nite the 20th. Then on Wednesday the 23rd, he drove the ten hours back across Nebraska to see our new Grandson in a Lincoln, NE hospital. All by himself. BECAUSE? Well, because he promised Tom and his wife several months back, that if you have that baby on my birthday, Sept 22nd, I'll drive out to see him in the hospital. They did and he did. When told to stay home and that it was too far to drive, he simply replied, "I gave my word."

The Campbells and Morrows both have grown and married children and what is kind of different here is that we parents are also good friends with each others children.

I guess Ralph and I are both pretty fortunate and we know it. That's what we have in common.

One last thing, it seems that this summer has been so busy with weddings, reunions, fishing, bithday parties and etc, that everytime we say goodbye to the Campbells, it's followed by "See you in two weeks." That's not always been the case this summer but close.

See you Thursday Campbells.

It's a Boy!

We snapped this picture of son Tom and his family on Sunday afternoon. We were on our way home from the lake and had stopped to see their recently completed kitchen project. Hudson was all smiles and Steph was, well, still pregnant.

This is the same group two days later, yesterday the 22nd. The only difference is Hudson has a new baby brother. This was his first meeting with his little brother and he didn't offer to knock him down or take a toy back or any of that stuff that will be reserved for later. These are two loving, firm, but patient parents and two very lucky children.

This is one of the four lucky grandparents holding an as yet to be named boy. I am expecting a call about the name very soon. You can suggest a name but I can tell you that Cliff and even Ralph have been suggested and rejected. This in view of the fact that yesterday was also Ralph's birthday makes it even more... well, probably not surprising.
I don't know how long it will take for that smile to disappear from Grandma Marilyn's face but when it does, it will return everytime she picks up a grandchild.

UPDATE:

Cooper Leo

8# 9 OZ-

20.5" Tall

The Last of the Wedding

Let me explain something for those who asked. The reason the Campbells and the Morrow's know each other is that my bride Marilyn (L) and Char (Mrs Ralph) have known each other most of their lives. You know, same neighborhood and schools and such. I think the fact that Ralph and I both have an attraction to good looking women is why we're all friends. By him self, Ralph, like me, is nothing to write home about.

Ralph toasting his Son and new DIL Desiree and family. It was delivered with the eloquence we've come to expect from this man.

His new Grandaughter also thought it was touching...OR...she didn't much like it judging by her tears. It was the former btw. She is a lovely, mature young lady.

Me and my buddy Ralph. An umpire's uniform made me feel under dressed. However if anyone had mentioned it I would have ejected them from the party.

The cutting of the wedding cake by the Mr and Mrs Campbell.

This whole thing, the wedding, the reception, were all fun. I don't care who you are.

I sometimes wonder what kind of boring existence I would lead were it not for the Campbells. There doesn't seem to be a reason why we even know each other let alone having them be more than friends. I guess the mutual admiration comes mostly because of the entertainment value we find in each other.
If you can't find it in this picture then I guess I can't explain it. The Co-Best men posed for a picture with the 'officiant' as they are described by Colorado law. The officiant doesn't need to be an umpire but if the wedding is going to be on a baseball field, then it's okay. The umpire isn't really an umpire but he plays one during weddings.

Several months ago I got a call and was told that I was going to be asked to perform a wedding ceremony. One side of me wanted to say no. The thinking being that I didn't need the chance to mess up someone else's wedding. But the overwhelming sentiment from within was a feeling of honor that these two, Desiree and Nate, would think as much of me as I do of them. Nate is Ralph and Char's son and Desiree and her children have together become part of this farm family and we to theirs. All of this coupled with the fact that it was so far in advance of the wedding that it was really something that would never happen. Maybe with luck I would succumb to Blog Flu or perhaps cancer, well in advance of the event. No such luck.

Some of you know I do my best work when under extreme pressure and although I traveled to Denver with the words I wanted to say, all in my computer, the segments were not arranged in proper order, nor were they until game day morning. Err..the day of the wedding. The grooms mother, Char, who is a computer genius, and who had too much to do that day, calmly helped take product from my laptop, converted it into something that would work on her computer and then printed it out. Sorry Char for being such a pain at the last minute, but you are good.

You see, these two, Nate and Desiree, are ardent baseball fans and wanted to be married in a replica of Coors Field where the Rockies play. It indeed was a sceinic venue for a wedding. The grounds crew had done a marvelous job and had the field prepared for play, or a wedding, whichever came first.

The crowd was told to come dressed casually and fun was in the air.

I must say that the wedding had a good balance of fun and deep meaning. I had scores of folks come to me and say that it was the most meaningful and or best wedding they had ever attended sighting the venue, the message, the ballpark organ music and on and on. I am so happy for the couple and know this is done deal. What a great concept they started with.
I should have told them "There's no flowers in basefall." Here I am in the stands waiting for the wedding to begin.

I'm going to start with some photos in no particular order because, well, that's the way blogger treats me. I tell it to put the picture here and it ends up there.

The first pic is of the field in it's ready to go state.

Next is Bubba posing. The third pic was taken during the wedding vows.The last shot is of course the lighting of the "Unity Baseballs."

The lovely girl standing behind Desiree is her daughter. These three along with Bubba make the new family unit and I must say they are all winners.

My next post will be five photo's from the reception.

I'll leave you with the last paragraph from my message to the couple.

'Live, Laugh and Love, like there is no tomorrow, because eventually, that will be the case. Turn to God often, put your trust in him, and he will surely Bless this marriage from now until time immemorial. Be childlike, wonder at everything, Be in awe of Gods goodness.'

Disagreement

Marilyn opined that she thought I was 'Out of Shape.'

I said "No...you're incorrect;... Round IS a shape."

We Are Back

I first want to thank all of you who dropped in to watch the place while we were gone. I'm sorry I didn't 'school' any of you on how to operate our lawnmower, weed hooks, hoes, or on how to pick tomatoes.

We've been to a family reunion in Tennessee. Home for one day and then to Denver for a family wedding. I have a lot to say on these topics but will leave you for now with a pic from a view from our hotel suites', front room down in TN. It is of Lake Barkley or AKA the Tennessee River. (Notice the tug and barge in the photo) The State Park we were in was near the now under water, Fort Henry, of Civil War fame.

The other pic was thru the windshield of our car on last weeks trip to the foothills of the Rockies. A storm was moving in. (click to enlarge.)

I'm Leaving You To Watch The Farm

I'll be back later.

You Decide Which Is Which

One of these pics of the gauge cluster on my Allis D-14 is before the boys painted it, and the other one is after they painted it. Can you tell which is the before pic?
I'm going to have a tiny decal made that says "Spooky Old Allis" and place it on the front end of the hood. If you can tell me where that comes from without looking it up, then you are officially old.

View From The Porch And More

We've had 15 plus inches of rain since the beginning of June here in southeastern Burt County. I quit keeping track at the 13 1/2" mark. Keeping that in mind, it's not unusual that Marilyn could snap this pic from our front porch a few days ago. It's a common sight.
I think the 15 inches of rainfall this year will be averaged with the zero rainfall for the next two Junes to give us something to hope for.
Below is activity at Morrow Collision Center. Son Tom is seen here apparently hiding behind my 1958 Allis D-14 farm tractor. What he's really doing is applying a coat of primer to the sand blasted frame. The picture after that, was taken later that day. It shows the same tractor in all its freshly painted glory.