Short nights for city slickers out on the farmPublished 9:54am Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
“What did the cow say to the dentist?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t get it.”
“That’s because you’re not 65.”
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: I’ve often wondered who “they” are. In most cases, they are not them. They are us.
1. Any time is a good time to start something, but next to yesterday you can’t beat today.
2. TV news is just the thing to watch when you’ve run low on things to worry about.
3. Age is nothing more than a state of body.
I don’t often eat too much, but I frequently eat too fast. I blame my haste on growing up on a farm. I ate lunches on hayracks and tractors. I had to eat quickly before the food got dirty.
A cousin from the city stayed overnight at our farm. We were youngsters. We spent much of the first day of his visit exploring the mysteries of the farm. He thought I was lucky. I had a tire swing. He knew kids who lived in the city who had no tires.
The next morning, we were up at 5 a.m. to do chores before breakfast.
As we staggered toward the barn, my cousin said, “It sure doesn’t take long to stay all night at your place.”
In the neighborhood
My neighbor Bob the Olson was in the Eat Around it Cafe, when he reached down and picked something up from the floor. Everyone assumed it was a gnawed bone until Bob looked around the eatery and asked, “Did anyone lose $20?”
Four men immediately claimed that they had.
Bob smiled and flipped the dime he’d found in their direction while saying, “Well, I found part of it. Divide it among you.”
A course in everything
I was headed out of Red Deer, Alberta when I spotted a sign advertising a campground named, RV There Yet. Later, I visited the world’s largest cream can in Markerville, Alberta. I thought it was large. People likely think that a lot.
Red Deer was just like home, only different. Kilometers replaced miles and the temperature was in Celsius instead of Fahrenheit. Tony Blake of Red Deer told me that all I needed to know about the temperature in Celsius was that 40 above was damn hot and 40 below was damn cold.
Francis the Pig
A hog was taken to a slaughterhouse in Red Deer in 1990. When unloaded from the truck, he made a run for it. The 240-pound hog jumped a fence and made his way into the Red Deer River valley. He was frequently seen living in the wild over the next six months. Antje Espinaco-Virseda of Edmonton, whose love of pigs had caused her to become a vegetarian, gave the pig the name Francis, after Saint Francis of Assisi. She believed the pig’s daring and bravery had earned him his freedom.
A man, worried that Francis would not survive the winter, shot him with three tranquilizer darts. Unfortunately, one of the darts meant to save him punctured an internal organ and that, combined with injuries from a car collision, brought death. A member of the Alberta legislature said, “I think it’s fair to say he’s been an example for all of us of our own province’s motto: strong and free.”
A visitor stopped at the Village Inn in Hartland. Hartland has a population of 315 with 4 last names. The man was from the big city. I can’t say exactly why that was evident, but you could tell. He was a friendly fellow who said to one of the patrons of the cafe, “It must be nice living in the country.”
“I wouldn’t know,” came the reply. “I’ve lived here in Hartland all my life.”