Laugh Tracks in the Dust
By Milo Yield
The income tax deadline came and went a month or so ago, and my ol’ gamblin’ buddy, A. C. Doocey, from Asbury, Mo., is in trouble again. He was on a weeklong gambling and drinking bender and completely forgot to send in his income taxes to the federal taxman.
When A.C. finally realized it, he made a feeble attempt to make things right. He wrote the IRS a check for $200 and included it in with this short letter:
“Dear, IRS. I forgot to send in my income taxes on April 15. I realize that in the eyes of the law, I cheated on my taxes. I have not been able to sleep. Please find enclosed find my check for $200. If I still can’t sleep, I will send the rest someday!”
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Yesterday I got a package from one of my neighbors. I wuzn’t expecting a package from him, so I wuz curious. When I opened it up, I realized it wuz a coronavirus gift. It wuz a welcome mat to put in front of our door.
It read: “Be A Good Neighbor. Stay at Home!”
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A farmer, ol’ Waite Sumore, had a son who had planned on getting married in June. However, due to the coronavirus pandemic, the bride’s family decided to postpone the wedding until a hopefully safer time in the fall.
Needless to say, ol’ Waite’s son was extremely disappointed at the wedding postponement. Waite and his son were discussing the situation while driving to town together for parts.
Trying to make his son feel better, ol’ Waite blurted, “Well, son, look at it this way. Perhaps, God is giving you a second chance to think about the wisdom of marrying.”
I doubt that comment helped the situation at all.
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I’ve a farmer friend east of Winnipeg, Canada, ol’ Picken Chuse, who is facing a pandemic dilemma of his own. In the name of public safety, the provincial government has made it illegal for groups of more than five to get together.
Therein lies Picken’s problem. He has a family of six. He called me and said, “Milo. Our kids are about to find out who is the least favorite. That poor kid is gonna have to eat all meals outside the kitchen.”
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Glad that Chase County didn’t have a similar ordinance in place last week as our daughter and our three grand-daughters came from Tennessee for a four-day visit.
It wuz wonderful to see them all again. Nevah and I hadn’t seen our eldest grand-daughter for more than 2 years. Now next month, she’s getting married.
Since it is still advised to stay isolated as much as possible, we mostly stayed right here at Damphewmore Acres and visited and played games.
I think it’s safe to say that our grandkids probably know how to play more non-electronic games than most kids. While they were here, we played these games: single and team casino, single and team cribbage, gin rummy, regular rummy, 9-hole golf (card game), Oh, Hell!, solitaire, double-solitaire, pitch, hearts and a new card game I’d never played before called The Great Dalmuti. The winning person as the game progresses has to wear a goofy hat. So, picture how nice I looked wearing a cute little lady hat with flowers and a black veil.
And, I spent one evening with two of the grand-daughters fishing in our pond. Everyone caught some fish, but not big ones. Just big enuf to eat.
One day we all went to Manhattan, Kan., to visit our two-month-old great-grandson (great aunt and 2nd cousin). Before coming home, we braved a public outing to savor some Cold Stone ice cream. My favorite is Sweet Cream ice cream mixed with red raspberries and chocolate chips.
Nevah and I weren’t quite so disappointed to see the Tennesseans go home because we expect to see them in July for the wedding.
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The weather in the Flint Hills went from too wet to too dry in a matter of days. When it quit raining, it took about three days for the ground to get hard as concrete. And, the wind has been predominantly from the southeast for longer than I can ever remember. Usually, our hot dry winds come from the southwest.
As I write this column, the forecast for our area is showers for the next three days. Sure hope that proves to be the case as I’m ready for a break in watering the garden. Plus, I need some soil moisture to get my wildlife food plots planted. It’s been too dry.
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I received sad news this week that a long-time jovial good friend from the two years of our young married life in Washington State has gone to his great reward. Sadly, but definitely, time just keep marching us all to the same destination.
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Overheard at coffee, “When I was a kid, smoking pot and skipping school had me in trouble constantly. Now, weed’s legal and the schools are closed. Dang kids are living the dream.”
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Words of wisdom for the week. “If you get an email with the subject, ‘knock, knock,’ don’t answer it. It’s from a nornally-on-the-road missionary working from home.” Have a good ‘un.
