An elderly farmer refused all modern bookkeeping methods. For decades he kept all his farm accounts in a bulging cigar box.
His son, who had a degree in economics and an MBA from a land-grant university, was home for the weekend. As they conversed about the farm, the son asked his dad, “I don’t see how you can run the farm this way. How in the world do you know where your profits are?”
“Well, son,” his father replied, “When I came to this country years ago, I had nothing but the pants I was wearing. Today your brother is a doctor, you are an economist and a businessman, your mother and I have a nice home, a new car, a productive farm, a pleasant little cottage at the lake, take a vacation every year, and everything is paid for. So, here’s the way I figure it. I add that all together, subtract the pants, and there’s my profits!”
***
A teenage city girl was vacationing at a rural bed and breakfast. During her family’s stay, the girl and the farmer’s son became friends. One evening they were strolling hand-in-hand through a pasture and the boy was pointing out which cow critters that were his.
As they watched, one of the boy’s cows walked up to the fence and rubbed noses with a neighbor’s cow on the other side of the fence.
When the girl asked what the cows were doing, the farm boy told her it was accepted bovine behavior by two cows getting to know each other better. Then he gave her hand an extra squeeze and said, “Seeing those cows rub noses like that makes me want to do the same.”
To which the city gal replied, “Well go ahead. You said it’s your cow.”
***
That little story about rural courting reminds me of a story an old fishing buddy once told me.
He said, “Courting is a lot like going fishing. You have faith that the fish are there. You have faith that the bait is adequate. And, you have faith that unacceptable fish can be thrown back into the stream without excessive damage to them.”
***
I called my old buddy A. C. Doocey down at Carl Junction, Mo., last week just to check up on his life. Readers will recall that A. C. has a bit of a problem with the bottle.
So, while I wuz talking to A.C. about what all had been happening recently in his life, he said, “Well, Milo, I had a bit of a scare last week. I had to call the sheriff to report that my old work car had been victimized and vandalized.
“When the dispatcher answered, I told him that the thieves had stolen the steering wheel, brake pedal, the accelerator, the clutch pedal and the dash board. But, before the sheriff could get to my place to investigate, I called him back and said, ‘Don’t bother. I mistakenly got into the hack seat of my car by mistake.’”
For some reason, I wuzn’t surprised by A. C.’s story,
***
Well, I’ve got good news all around on the home-front at Damphewmore Acres. First, ol’ Nevah is recovering rapidly from her hip surgery and subsequent complications from a fall. She’s pretty nimble with her walker and her doc said to accelerate her rehab, start putting full weight on her operated leg, and said she could start driving again.
Earlier this week, we drove to Riley, Kan., and for the first time got to “walk around” in our new home. However, all we got to survey wuz the poured floor with all the wall studding erected on the perimeter and the interior walls.
Nevertheless, Nevah and I could envision ourselves eventually relaxing on the patio watching sunsets, or stretched out in our recliners watching TV.
Our new home is far enuf along that we feel comfortable starting the process of selling Damphewmore Acres, so we can move to “Damphewer Acres.” So, if ya’ wanna’ live where I’ve been living, email me at [email protected] and I’ll add you to the list of interested buyers.
This week I also got caught up on most of the yard and garden work that I’d been postponing during Nevah’s rehab. I used the ol’ Country Clipper mower like a bush hog and got the thigh-high grass mowed around the pond. I got my chicken/wildlife foot plots planted and the sorghum and millet seed is already emerging.
The tomatoes are fully caged and mulched and look wonderful. The spuds and sweet ‘taters are growing like crazy and the green beans, pole beans, zucchinis and onions look good, too. We even got a little rain that filled our pond up again.
All I need to do to catch fully up to speed is get the flowers planted and transplanted in Nevah’s flower beds by the house.
Then I might just go fishing if I decide it’s worth it to tempt the chiggers, ticks and mosquitoes for a payoff of a few fillets.
***
Words of wisdom for the week: A consultant is a person who borrows your watch to tell you what time it is, then sends you a bill for services rendered.”
Have a good ‘un.
