Laugh Tracks in the Dust: What’s for Supper

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A friend of mine, ol’ Freeman Speaker, is in big trouble with his wife. A few days ago, he came home from the field and found his wife outdoors in a sweat pulling weeds in her flower garden and raking leaves in the yard.

He wuz hungry from his day’s work, so he casually asked her what they were having for supper.

Clearly irritated by the thought of her hubby going into the air conditioned house while she labored away on the weeds and leaves to make their homestead presentable, she snapped, “I can’t believe you’re asking me about supper right now!
Just pretend I’m out of town, go inside and make supper yourself!”
After being berated in such a manner, Freeman stomped into the house, went in the kitchen and fixed himself a big steak, potatoes, garlic bread, and poured a tall, cold beer.
His wife walked in just about the time he was finishing up and asked, “Where’s my dinner?”
“Huh? I thought you were out of town,” Freeman replied.

I think he may be getting used to sleeping in his recliner.

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I’m a fisherman and an observant reader noticed that fact recently sent me this ancient fishing story:

Once upon a time there was a king who wanted to go fishing.  He called the royal weather forecaster and inquired as to the weather forecast for the next few hours. The weatherman assured him that there was no chance of rain in the coming days.

So the king went fishing with his wife, the queen.  On the way he met a farmer on his donkey. Upon seeing the king, the farmer said, “Your Majesty, you should return to the palace at once because in just a short time I expect a huge amount of rain to fall in this area”.

The king, being polite and considerate to his lowly serf, replied, “I hold the palace meteorologist in high regard. He is an extensively educated and experienced professional. And besides, I pay him very high wages. He gave me a very different forecast. I trust him and I will continue on my way.”

So he continued on his way. However, a short time later a torrential rain fell from the sky. The King and Queen were totally soaked and their entourage chuckled upon seeing them in such a shameful condition. Furious, the king returned to the palace and gave the order to fire the royal weatherman at once!

Then he summoned the farmer and offered him the prestigious and high paying role of royal weather forecaster. The farmer said, “Your Majesty, I do not know anything about forecasting. I obtain my information from my donkey. If I see my donkey’s ears drooping, it means with certainty that it will rain.”

So the king hired the donkey. And so began a timeless governmental hiring tradition for upper level bureaucrats that continues to this day.

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I’m writing this a few days before Halloween and right in the midst of all the presidential debates.

I’ve been thinking about what to do when the trick or treaters come to our door and I think I’ve come up with a solution that will put me right in the middle of current mainstream politics.

When trick or treaters come to my door, I’m going to ask nicely for half of the candy and goodies they’ve collected and then I’ll give it to other kids who are too busy playing video games to go trick or treating.

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And, from my friend Winchester “Winny” Remington in Wyoming comes this message about gun control.

He said, “Gun control is like trying to reduce drunk driving by making it tougher for sober people to own cars.”

Pretty astute thinking, huh?

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We had our first frost last night and it nipped the remaining tomato plants and the sweet potato vines. I don’t think it killed them outright, but I do think that it put an end to this year’s gardening season, except for hopefully digging some sweet taters. Oh, and also pulling the tomato vines, tearing down the trellis system and tilling for next spring’s planting.

I also got a job done this week that I’ve been putting off for a while. The former owners of Damphewmore Acres had an old garage that was made half of limestone blocks and half of lumber. The south wall wuz giving away and all the stuff I had stored in the shack wuz in danger of being buried in a collapse.

So, I took the tractor and hastened the collapse — after I’d cleared the shed of all the junk I had stored inside. It took me almost three hours to pull the roofing and lumber to a burn site and stack the limestone. I’ll give some “building blocks” to a neighbor for a landscaping project and dump the rest in the pond for fish habitat.

Frankly, demolishing that old garage wuz a lot harder than I’d expected, so in that aspect, it wuz just like most jobs in life.

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Time to give this column a wrap. Hope your Halloween wuz a happy one. And, until next week, remember that a perfect marriage is just two imperfect people who refuse to give up on each other.” Have a good ‘un.

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