The Bench Sitters have finally declared summer has arrived. With more than one day in the 80s, they could be right.
All the moisture and cool weather has put “haying season” far behind schedule for most in that business.
It’s going to be one of those years when we find out why they put headlights on swathers and balers.
A rancher from down on Powder River in the south part of the county told us he could tell by the frown on a neighbor’s face whether he had hay cut that wasn’t dry enough to bale or had some the hail had flattened out.
Anyone who has made a trip through the Midwest recently can tell you stories about flooding rivers and lots of corn and soybean fields that didn’t get planted this year.
We hear stories of rather “damp” camping trips to the mountains over the 4th, and notice one boat became part of the fireworks display at DeSmet last weekend. The burned remains were parked in front of a local insurance office.
Whenever we get a year when the spring moisture keeps coming into the early part of summer, and the grass is knee-high just about everywhere, it brings to mind a bit of wisdom from Duane Foss. Bumped into Wayne Nelson in the grocery store last week and he reminded me of this comment.
“Don’t kid yourself,” Duane would say, “In Wyoming we are always just two weeks of hot, dry wind away from a drought.”
Meanwhile, back down on the Main Drag this week we bumped into Phil Marton. He ranched with his brother, Randy, between Casper and Alcova for many years, but hung up his spurs and moved to Oregon about four years ago.
Phil says he doesn’t miss the cold winds, coyotes and all the other fun of raising sheep in Wyoming. But he still hunts coyotes in Oregon once in a while.
There is an old Indian saying that coyotes are so good at survival they will be the last critters on the face of the earth.
The Native American who thought that one up apparently had never met a miller-moth or a boxelder bug.
Not a lot more to report this week other than a few thoughts from a cynical philosopher shared with us by Bruce Anspaugh, who grew up here but migrated to California. The thoughts include:
I read that 4,153,237 people got married last year. Shouldn’t that be an even number?
Today a man knocked on my door and asked for a small donation towards the local swimming pool. I gave him a glass of water.
I find it ironic that the colors red, white and blue stand for freedom until they are flashing behind you.
Did you know that dolphins are so smart that within a few weeks of captivity, they can train people to stand on the very edge of the pool and throw them fish?
Money talks . . . but all mine ever says is good-bye!
You’re not fat, you’re just easier to see.
I can’t understand why women are OK that JC Penney has an older women’s clothing line named “ Sag Harbor.”
My 60-year kindergarten reunion is coming up soon, and I’m worried about the 175 pounds I’ve gained since then.
The reason Mayberry was so peaceful and quiet was because nobody was married. Andy, Aunt Bea, Barney, Floyd, Howard, Goober, Gomer, Sam, Earnest T. Bass, Helen, Thelma Lou, Clara and, of course, Opie were all single. The only married person was Otis, and he stayed drunk.
Keep smiling this week and we’ll drop a line again.