The Chase County Fair last week had high points and low points for me. The high point wuz that my 18 entries in the garden/horticulture classes earned me a healthy plethora of prize monies and merchant cash prizes. All 18 entries earned a ribbon and cash prize of some sort. In all, my county fair cash totaled the tidy, eye-popping, ease-the-cost-of-retirement sum of $49.25.
Although the Best of Show and runner-up Best of Show ribbons eluded me to entries of excellent bell peppers and cucumbers by other exhibitors, I did get first in class blue ribbons on my: large zucchini, small acorn squash plate, white potatoes, largest tomato by weight, best plate of large tomatoes, best plate of small cherry or oblong tomatoes, white onions, and carrots.
The remainder of my entries earned three second-place red ribbons and seven third-place white ribbons.
Ol’ Nevah scored big at the fair, too. She entered two pieces in the sewing and knitting class. Her quilted table runner earned Reserve Grand Champion and her bed quilt earned a blue ribbon, too. We figger with our combined prize monies, we’re on Easy Street from now on.
The low point of the fair wuz that as ol’ Nevah and I were returning home from the fair one evening, we were traveling on “death trap” Hwy 50 and met an oncoming 18-wheeler that threw some piece of road debris into our SUV front window and put a long crack right through the middle of it. Somehow, amazingly the glass replacement cost right at $500 (our insurance deductible). So, our net economic loss from attending and participating at the county fair was around $450.
But we still had a good time and ended up buying a bundle of BBQ pork and another of beef for eating on this fall.
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Thanks to Canby Handy in Platte City, Mo., for this funny:
Back in the days of the wild west, Saint Peter is sitting at the Pearly Gates when two guys riding sweaty horses and looking worn from hard travel arrive. St. Peter looked out through the Gates and told the tough looking hombres,”Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
St. Peter goes over to God’s chambers and tells him he’s pretty sure two cattle rustlers are waiting for entrance into heaven and that he doesn’t think they should be let in.
God says to Peter: “How many times do I have to tell you? You can’t be judgmental here. This Is heaven. All are loved. All are brothers. Go back and let them in!”
So, St. Peter goes back to the Gates, looks around, and lets out a heavy sigh. He returns to God’s chambers and says, ” Well, they’re gone.”
“The guys you think are cattle rustlers?” asks God.
“No. The Pearly Gates,” St. Peter replied sadly.
***
I think ol’ Canby’s story could be modernized by replacing cattle rustlers with Neo-Nazis, Antifas, Ponzi schemers, crooked politicians, and other similar unsavory characters and groups.
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Overheard in the grain elevator waiting line: “I just had a physical. My doctor said ‘Don’t eat anything fatty.’ I said, ‘but I like bacon and burgers.’ My doc replied, ‘No, FATTY, don’t eat anything.’”
Overheard in the local cafe: “I thought the clothes dryer made my clothes shrink. Turns out it was my refrigerator instead.”
Overheard at the county fair: “Folgers got it wrong. The best part of waking up is going back to bed after hitting the head.”
Overheard at the feed store: “I’m so old that no one pays attention to me. But I changed all that by changing the water bottle I always carry with me to an empty Hershey’s chocolate bottle. Now everyone pays attention to me.”
Overheard at the assisted living center: “I met him online and he sounded good because he said he lived in a gated community. Turns out, he’s a convict.”
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A prominent cattleman went by himself to his state’s cattlemen’s convention and really got himself into hot water with his faithful wife at home.
He sent a text on the morning he was to head home and it said, “I’m having a wonderful time. Wish you were her.”
When he got home, the front door wuz locked.
Just goes to prove that your English teacher wuz right: One little spelling mistake can ruin your life.”
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Political commentaries deserving on publicity: Triple-Initial New York Congresswoman claims our southern border is “just like a concentration camp.”
Hum. Wonder why no one asks her to give one example from history where people are climbing the fence to get into a concentration camp and bringing their children along, too.”
San Francisco: Where dogs have to watch where they step.
And, finally, “You can ban guns, bows and arrows, hatchets, spears, cars, trucks, swords, boxcutters, knives, sticks. stones and bombs — but you will never disarm evil, and evil is what kills.”
Have a good ‘un.
