Well, folks, I’m back at the computer keyboard — definitely sorer, and hopefully stronger, as a continue to recuperate from hernia surgery. I ain’t running any races, nor competing in any weightlifting competition, but I’m getting better every day — and I can do my own chores now.
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The weekend before the surgery, ol’ Nevah and I, and six of our best friends, got together in Emporia to eat Mexican food at the Casa Roma, before attending an Asleep at the Wheel country music concert at the grand ol’ Grenada Theater.
I’m happy to say that it wuz one of the most enjoyable concerts of the many we’ve attended at the Grenada. Founder of Asleep at the Wheel and lead singer, Ray Benson, is 68 years old and I think Ray’s at an age when he realizes music doesn’t have to be ear-drum splitting to be fun.
During his nearly 2-hour concert, Ray and his band kept the music volume at a level that even I (with my nearly worthless ears), could hear the song lyrics. Everyone in our little group enjoyed the show immensely.
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We ain’t had a drop of rainfall in the last two weeks. This area of the Flint Hills is categorized as in extreme drought. Some of the stunted corn is already being cut for silage, and I predict that a lot more will end up in the silo unless we get rain in the next few days.
Walking across our yard is like walking on Wheaties, crunchy. The only weed that’s thriving is the bind-weed. Judging from the drought tolerance of bind-weed, I think all the genetic engineering agronomists should start working overtime to find a way of cutting the drought-tolerant genes from bind-week and infusing them into all our agronomic crops. Seems to me that would be the best way to combat global warming.
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One really good thing happened at Damphewmore Acres last week. The chicken-killing coyote met a well-deserved violent death. Picking a time when it wuz difficult for me to respond with lethal force, the scoundrel killed four of my chickens in four days. So, I started keeping the chickens shut up in their pen all day.
After several days, I spied Mr. Coyote one evening eyeing the empty yard, but by the time I got ready to shoot, he wuz down by my nearly-dry pond, but I gave him a courtesy shot and scared the bejeebers out of him — or so I thought.
After scaring Mr. Coyote with the rifle, and since the temperatures have been around 100 degrees, I figgered the next day would be save to let the chicken flock free-range again. WRONG!
About four o’clock with the heat like a blast furnace, ol’ Nevah yelled, “The coyote is trying to catch a chicken out by the dog kennel.” I looked, and sure enuf, Mr. Coyote wuz about 30 feet from a bunch of hens huddled up for safety under the elevated dog kennel.
My bird dog, Mandy, was raising a regular conniption fit in her kennel and Mr. Coyote was totally ignoring her. It had the chickens eyed like a Border Collie and wuz circling trying to get one chicken to break cover.
Mr. Coyote’s fixation wuz his undoing. He didn’t spy me walking out of the house toward him. Finally, at about 50 yards, the 25-06 spoke and the dirty deed wuz done. The canine culprit wuz a big male coyote that I’d bet wuz part dog. It had a big barrel chest and relatively short hair for a coyote.
Few things in this world make me happier than putting an end to a marauding, chicken-killing coyote.
The chickens have been free-ranging without incident for the past few days. Maybe Mrs. Coyote got the message.
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I’m gonna get a bit political now, so beware. To my way of thinking, a nation without secure borders is not a sovereign nation, but a sucker nation. I don’t much care how our borders are secured, nor the cost of the security. Just get the job done.
Let me make it clear, I’m all for limited, legal, immigration. We should welcome folks who enter our country prepared to contribute to it in a positive manner and assimilate into it as proud Americans.
I’m a polyglot of bloodlines — German, French, Dutch, English, Scottish, Irish and Welsh, so I’ve got no standing to be critical of origin of immigrants.
I’m compassionate to fellow human beings in dire straits, but, the world being as it is, there are billions of persons, of all ages, nationalities, religions, who are in difficult economic or political situations. The U.S. — wealthy though it is — cannot take in all the world’s huddled masses yearning to be free.
The best bet for the U.S. to help lift up the world is for it to remain the world’s best example of freedom, strength, and rule by law and votes, not by men.
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I’ll get off my soapbox now. My ol’ Colorado buddy, Jay Esse, provides the words of wisdom this week. He sez, “The older I get, the fewer things I find are worth waiting in line for, mostly becuz I can’t remember why I wuz standing in line for in the first place.”
Jay also sez at his age, the only thing he has time for is procrastination. Me, too. Have a good ‘un.
