I recall a safety poster from many years back. It showed a large building in flames and a fellow standing nearby, surrounded by all the firefighting apparatus in the world.

“Everybody ought to have a truck.” I will credit that rash statement to John Scherer as he and I were on the scene of someone’s truck that was in need of a major transplant, probably my truck.

My 10-year high school reunion was an interesting event. The other evening, I looked over the group photo of those attending and had a hard time finding myself.

Storage
After all the blood, sweat, and tears that went into making that stack of perfect hay, added to alternately praying for and cursing the weather, how about a little common sense in storing the product?

Leo made one of many interesting comments as we were riding together some years back. “If that truck you are following,” he started, “is taking the curves in the road about five miles an hour slower than the curves are posted for, then there is a good chance that the driver used to haul hay.”

Dan was somewhere between 11 and 13 and was with us delivering hay at Rowland, Nevada. It seems like it was during the Christmas holiday break from school, but whenever it was, it was good and cold.

Rhode Island Red was the C.B. “handle” of a young man of short stature whom I called the Bantam Rooster, actually the “Banty” Rooster.

Mitchell Lee Nelson came into this world with challenges. At the moment of his birth, I could tell that he had serious physical problems.

I think the year was 1974. I was hauling an occasional load of potatoes to supplement the dairy income.

I have food on my mind more than usual lately. About two months ago I started “The FAT BOYS’ Club”. The upside is that my weight is down almost twenty pounds – to where it was when I should have started the club.