It’s that ^&@#*& Time of the Year
Merry Christmas. OK, maybe not. If you are anything like me, you are all but merry during the Christmas rush. If I had to describe it correctly, it would be Grumpy Christmas.
I guess my big problem is that my birthday is Dec 31st. Besides the fact that that makes me a Capricorn, and Capricorns are grumpy, I feel -somehow- I have been getting the shaft for a long time.
It never really bugged me much as a kid. Down on the farm, I was used to not getting much , anyway. When it really began to bug me was… Continue reading
The Moon Over The Hills
by Mike Beucler
Back in the country we like our privacy. In fact, we like it so much we find it offensive to see a plane go over head. But what is a country guy supposed to do about it? Simply moon them.
But what if you are a proper lady? You know you can’t go around mooning airplanes. There is only one thing you can do: show them your tits.
I guess it really didn’t start with a privacy thing. I suspect this reaction to airplanes and helicopters started when they outfitted the police planes with heat sensors and… Continue reading
Get me to the Church
by Mike Beucler
In a few days I will be married. And the best part is, it’s not to anyone in the family. I will be getting married to my long time sweetheart: Lori. Okay, three years really isn’t that long, but when you are about to get married, you have to say that kind of thing or you’ll pay for it when the wedding is over.
Shortly after we started dating, we started living together. Seems she had some kind a fight with her Pa and he kicked her out of the house. He didn’t like her dating so… Continue reading
Bored Bored Bored Bored !!!
Have your kids ever told you that they were bored? Mine did that to me this past summer. After my parents divorce, the old farm became a big house surrounded by a big yard. Where once there where 100 animals to take care of, all that remained was broken farm equipment. But somehow I managed not to be bored.
There always seemed to be lots to do in the country. On a quiet summer night you could often here the sounds of young men learning that the stories of cows sleeping standing up were true. And on special nights you… Continue reading
Trick or Forget it
by Mike Beucler
I got a old box of pictures from my mother the other day. I looked through them and found about a million Christmas pictures. As I looked through them, I realized I couldn’t remember the day at all. A little while later in the same box, I found one picture of Halloween. There I was beside my sister standing tall and proud. She in her Pocahontas robe and me in my Donald duck mask.
I remember it well. (Even then Disney characters wanted in on Pocahontas).
Growing up as a farm boy I didn’t have a lot… Continue reading
It’s Just a bug
by Mike Beucler
I have seen a good number of bugs growing up on the farm. I have walked through a field full of grasshoppers flying in every direction. You start to think of it as prerrt, or at least a pretty good place to get bait for fishing.
When we would get on my mom’s nerves she would send us out to pick ticks off the dogs. I have pulled my share of ticks off myself also, without a bit of worry in the world. When me and the little woman got together she found a tick on the… Continue reading
Good Kitty
by Mike Beucler
The other day I was sitting around in the house watching T.V. with the kids, when I heard this squeaking. It didn’t take long to realize I have heard the sound before. Growing up on a farm you get to hear a lot of noises. You can hear people talking a mile away sometimes- which can be real entertaining on a quiet summer night. Every sound takes on it’s own life and can be quickly placed. So it wasn’t hard to remember the sound of a small animal being caught by a cat.
Now I don’t want… Continue reading
RUN FOR IT!
I am not sure what most people consider “getting in trouble.” I met a few of my old friends the other day and we got to talking about the things we used to do. Now, I am sure you have heard things about how all kids get in trouble, but it seems to differ greatly when you get down in the hills.
We used to ride dirt-bikes through old strip-mine hills. Every time out we would extend the paths a little further. Sooner or later, we would find a new wide open place and start ridding there also. Without the… Continue reading