The Target

Taza visited to remind me that it was my turn to be the dartboard. I had told Maggie that, a few days ago. Yes, I am the target, at least this week. Another way to put it is "Somedays you're one of the pigeons, Other days you're the Statue".
Besides the dentist appt, which by the way I survived thanks to the aide of modern science and novacaine, I also had my annual check-up and refill my thyroid medicine script visit to my Medical Dr.
He has a dry wit. After answering the usual questions for the nurse, it's time for the face to face with the Doc. "I see you're down 10 pounds from August, are you counting calories"? "No". "Do you excercise"? "A little". "How much do you try to do"? "I guess 20 minutes, 3 or so times a week". Doc says, "you know, walking a mile will burn 100 calories and there are 3500 calories in a pound, might think about not puting the calories in your mouth to start with". He continues thru a list in his mind of the top 8 or 10 things that are going to kill someone of my age and weight, "I'll order a PSA, cholesterol, diabetes, thyroid level, uric acid, and beta HCG, I'll get a phone call on the last one". It's the 'tumor' marker test they run for my now 9 years past bout of testicular cancer. "Doc, why will they call you"? He says "they'll want to know why I'm running a pregnancy test on this gentleman, it's the same test".
He goes on "do you wear your seatbelt?. "Usually". "What, you wear it only when you think you're going to crash"? I smirk and say "I gotcha". "Okay" he says "stand here at the end of the exam table and put your elbows on the table and I'll check your prostate". I start to comply and say "I guess I should drop my pants", he says, "you don't have to, but it will make it easier and I think you'll find it more comfortable". Turns out a digital exam has nothing to do with the read-out on a machine.
I've always said, bedside manner isn't important, I've had some of the worst. Those same Doctors saved my life by not letting things pass like I was asking them to. "No Cliff, you need to see a specialist about this". Turns out I did. One once told me in a waiting room full of strangers that "well I think you've got cancer, can you come down next Monday for an operation". (closest I've ever come to fainting)
Another said "we need to stop your thyroid, it's gone crazy". I said "wait, I've lost 50 pounds, can we just let it go". That Doctor said "your life is similar to a pop bottle rocket on the fourth of July, unless you want to make a ZZZZip sound with a pop at the end, we need to stop your throid, it's decided to run the show by itself". We did. It worked. I hate to admit it but I'm alive because of Doctors.

In Just 60 Minutes From Now

This post is to make all of you feel better. (As though you need an excuse on a Friday)
In Sixty Minutes, 8 AM Standard DLST, I am going to have the biggest filling in one of the 8 biggest teeth in my head ground out and rebuilt. Also the tooth next to it will be be ground away to a point to begin the capping process.
Whenever I play golf with the Dentist, I like to point out (to others in the foursome) that because of my family of 4, his garage, on his beautiful home on our golf course, actually belongs to me. Because I paid for it. I don't do that anymore, last year he tried to get me to come paint the inside of my garage.

Trying to Keep the Kids on the Farm

My youngest son helped start this tradition 5 years ago. Something you might not see in Denver or Atlanta.

The View From the (back) Porch

(Click image to enlarge) Looking out the back door during a downpour Monday afternoon. That's my garden tractor behind the pole, recently planted raised beds in the foreground (fortified with wire to make it harder for the dogs to excavate) and the berm on the right that I tried to burn down last week with a run-away fire. On the far right is the old barn that we hope to level in the next month or so. Ralph, how'd I do dehorning that apple tree??
Would you say someone needs to clean the gutters on back porch?

Hanky-Panky on the Farm

Friday started out like any other day. My Brother from Omaha came up to help me. We had been picking up and arranging trash, for burning.(on the farm trash usually alludes to some kind of foliage, in this case tree branches) A regular springtime job for those of us with miles of tree lines. We quit about 7 pm and Marilyn had dinner ready for us. I was going to say spaghetti, meat sauce, and garlic toast but I don't know how to spell spaghetti.
We watched the first game in the Nebraska-Texas series on ESPN-2. After the regulation 9, it was tied and my Bro left for Omaha. It was after all, past 10 p.m.
OKAY. Now let's skip to Sat. morn. I walk out of the house to begin loading a truck and what do I see but 2 of my Daughters ponies out of their pen. I do a U turn and go back to the door, "Marilyn, the ponies are out".
OKAY. Skip to noon. My brother calls, "I've called to confess", I say, "why". "Do you have any horses left". Right then I put 2 and 2 together and figure out he saw some horses out last nite and didn't say anything to us.
"Well when I left last night, I backed out and had to pull around your semi (which was sitting in the middle of the farmstead road) and when I pulled back on the road I saw them". "What the horses"? "Yes, and I stopped at your daughters house on the way off of the farm and knocked and no one answered the door, so I drove home and called your house about midnight and no one answered". "Don't worry about it", I say but he interrupts. "No you don't understand, I haven't gotten to the good part yet, when my headlights swung back to the west, you know, so they were shining on the grain bins, I saw it". "Saw what"? "The cat riding the horse".
Not in fifty five years has my Brother given me any reason to doubt his veracity. But I was waiting for the punch line. "Really, one of your cats was standing on the back of one of your horses". I of course believe what he says to be true, he isn't on any medication or prone to a weakness for stiff drink.
I laid awake last nite and wondered just what the heck is going on out side as we lay here snug in our beds. Are horses running in circles and cats doing somersaults thru the air and landing solidly on the galloping steeds.
Is this where they got the term 'hitching post'. Do animals hitch rides on horses from there? All of this time I admired circus animal acts. I didn't know it came naturally. They just walk around zoo's , with flashlights, at night, and catch the future stars of the Big Top in the act.
The horror of being caught. The Dr Doolittle conversation goes like this. The cat says "Wow, so this is what it's like being 12 hands tall, Awesome"! "Do that 'canter' thing again before one of the dogs catches up and wants back on"! "Headlight's!!! Freeze, NO, keep walking, pretend like everything is normal, he won't even notice me up here".
I have finally come to realize that everyday, when I look out across the farm, the dogs, the cats, and horses are always laying around, asleep, exhausted. Well, is it any wonder?

Redneck Family??

Do you have a Redneck family if you ask "does anyone have a knife", and both your Wife and Daughter pull out pocket knives? (with the easy 'one thumb, flip out blade action')
This may be why I blog. It gives me the freedom to express my feelings with out risk.

The View From the Porch

Looking up the lane. Spring is sprung. Someone needs to get the riding lawnmower out and blow up the tire. Corn planting will start out there behind the old shed. Very soon. More updates to follow.

Economic Developement Corp.

After about a year of getting our ducks in a row and lining up financing by the County and 3 of our county's towns, we are up, up, and away.

Fifty Pound Bags

Terah’s dislike of wind has reminded me of a poem I wrote last year. I had a five hour lay-over in Wichita, waiting for a load of caustic soda, and the Kansas wind was blowing and this came to mind.

Fifty Pound Bags

In the month of May in Nintey Six,
When the dogwoods were still in bloom,
I was planting beans on a windy day,
I need more seed, this I assumed.

I was walking back to check the planter
When my Wife drove up with a ton,
Of certified seed, in Fifty pound bags,
And hamburger wrapped in a bun.

I gulped the sandwich, started pouring in seed,
My wife was holding onto the sacks,
But one got away, ripped from her grasp,
By Mariah, then came the attack.

It circled the pick-up, then hit the dog,
Then Marilyn got one more pass,
Then it started climbing, It was up and away,
Soon a half mile high, then Alas,

The winds aloft took it straight east,
Into Iowa, and then at last sighting,
Twas climbing higher and higher and as far as I know
Is a star, part of our night lighting.

I don’t like to litter, and the loss of the sack
Had me feelin clear down on my luck,
The bag had no value, but the beans inside,
Were worth at least, Thirty Bucks!

I'm In a Daze

Last monday morning, I dumped a load of corn at the Cargill Sweetners plant located about 25 miles south of here. I unloaded and then stopped at the mini-mart/truck stop and bought a bottle of Diet Pepsi and a Nebraska pick 5 lotto ticket. The drawing was last night and I just now got on the pick-5 website and see that I picked all 5 numbers. My birthday actually. The website says there was one winning ticket sold in Blair NE and the winner will receive 2.4 million. This changes things.
I'm sitting here kind of numb wondering if I should call my kids from 90 miles away so they can be here when I drive up the lane to tell Marilyn. The other question is whether to call friends or keep it quiet. Should I try to live life as I have been,(in which case I could just keep on farming til it's gone) or should I have a farm sale, and move somewhere. I'm not sure I like that option because I like it here. My belief has always been that there is something wrong with every place you could choose to live. Too hot, cold, wet, or dry. Too many people, too many bugs, too much sand, not enough sand, no lake, all lakes, and on and on. So I kind of like it here in Tekamah, I think the thing to do is try to pretend it never happened. I could use the point 4 million and get out of debt and buy a minivan that has less than 100K miles on it. I currently have 2 in that category.
We could build a house on the golf course in Tekamah overlooking the Missouri River Valley. But the problem there is I'd get tired of playing bad golf (several times a week) and quit doing that (golfing) then I'd be imprisoned by golfers playing golf around my house everyday and me hating the sport. I'd probably end up with a house on the right side of a fairway about 200 yards from the tee box and then I'd get grumpy and stand in my yard and pick up all of the 'sliced' balls that end up in my yard and I'd refuse to give their balls back and everyone would hate me. That and the golf course is out of my district so I'd have to resign my post as County Supervisor.
So...I'm going to call my boys now and tell them to stay in Lincoln. My daughter is outside feeding the horses and I'm going to tell her nothing about this. I've decided to try to keep this from Marilyn, if at all possible, (I'm tired of having to ask her for money everytime I want to go to town shopping)
And probably the hardest of all decisions I've had to make,,,I'm going to quit blogging, I'm sick and tired of you people. First I leave comments and they don't show up, then I leave comments and my computer won't send them. Then I write a good blog and no one leaves a comment. NOT ONE COMMENT!!! So to all of you out there. (insert your own raspberry sound here) Farewell. Oh and I just looked at the calender, Happy April Fools day.