If you smell something, it’s probably too late. Just ponder on that deep thought for a moment. You have to admit that, even for a C student like myself, that phrase alone should get me nominated for farmer of the year.
How many times have you smelled something and immediately went into panic mode? Just like Name That Tune, one whiff or hint of a smell is all you need. The first example would be the smell of food burning in the oven mixed with the smell of burnt matches as Cousin Mark exits the kitchen on Thanksgiving Day.
How about when you’re in the barn and a whiff comes floating by of dollar store cologne that only your brother-in-law wears? You know he’s there to borrow something, only to break it. And there’s nothing quite as exciting as opening the hydraulic oil tank and it smells like diesel fuel.
What’s worse is sharing a smell with someone else. Take, for instance, when the milk inspector pops the milk pump apart and it smells like Limburger cheese. There’s a party foul. The worst is after a meal out with friends. Everyone is standing out front of the restaurant saying their goodbyes – and you accidently belch while talking. All the sudden your blind date wishes you hadn’t had the crème of garlic soup. That’s like opening a can of tuna fish in the car.
One time, my uncle could smell propane gas around his RV camper. He swore it was leaking from underneath by the axles. He convinced my brother to crawl under there with a Bic lighter to find the leak. He found it, all right! My brother lost all the hair on his arms and eyebrows. My uncle only had to build an entire new floor for his RV. I’ll admit, maybe I should have warned my brother. But hey, like my uncle says, “If you’re gonna be dumb, you better be tough.” My brother crawled out from under that RV dazed and confused. He looked like a steer in a pen full of open heifers.
My brother and I were in a thrift store recently and noticed a book called Farming for Dummies. I thought to myself, “Well, I ain’t no dummy.” My brother then said, “This book must be for idiots.” So I bought it for him.
Willie Nelson actually wrote the forward for the book. He mentioned how he almost lost everything to the IRS and then he had a bout with depression. Willie credits farming for saving his life. He still owes the IRS, but who stays depressed when you own a pot ranch?
I leave you with one more thought of wisdom. Teach a man to fish, he can feed his family. Teach a man to farm, he’ll probably need to buy a boat.
