Wednesday, March 11, 2026
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More limericks

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Thayne Cozart
Milo Yield

Once I get started with Aggie Limericks, I just keep going. So, here are a few more. Hope you get a chuckle out of some of them.

It seems that everyone wants to buy rural land for everything but farming and ranching. So, here’s a couple of limericks about that.

A wealthy Wichita insurance man
Had a scheme and a glorious plan.
He’d buy all the farms,
And refurbish the barns.
And have rustic B&Bs clear to Sedan.

A Colorado rancher named Brown
Bought land by the acre and pound.
But age and senility
Increased his liability.
And now his assets in town
***
Springtime is the time for young love. So, here’s a limerick about that.

Said a girl to her boyfriend named Enos,
“I’m afraid that my father has seen us.”
“I am, too,” said her beau,
“And I hope he does know,
That your mother is sitting between us.”
***
Dietitians recommend eating beans for the fiber. But, there is a problem with eating beans. Here’s a limerick about that.

A robust rural fellow named Bart,
Had a favorite food, t’wasn’t smart.
He’d stretch out his jeans,
With a big bait of beans.
And then indigestion would start. (fooled you)
***
Spring is the favorite time of the year for horse folks. It’s when colts are born and mares need special care. It’s also when attention focuses on the upcoming Kentucky Derby and the Triple Crown races. Here are two limericks about that.

An absent-minded horseman named Wayne
Forgot to keep using his brain.
His mare he let founder
T’was his fault, no gettin’ round ‘er.
Lame-brain Wayne fed his mare too much grain.

A wealthy beer-swilling horseman named Billy.
Foolishly paid a million bucks for a filly.
Who, when put on the track,
Threw her jockey from her back.
Yep, that filly drove poor Billy silly.
***
If spring rains don’t quench the ongoing drought, then we can expect a summer with more insect pests threatening crops. Killing insect pests is getting more difficult because of more stringent regulations on insecticides. So, here’s a limerick about that.

Said farmer Jones, with his mouth agape,
Watching grasshoppers pillage and rape,
“If we’re unable to spray them,
Then I trust, and I pray then.
The EPA will kill ‘em with red tape.”
***
We’re spending all this week getting prepared for our huge garage/yard sale this weekend. Next week, I’ll give a report about how the sale went.
So, I’ll close for this week, with several words of wisdom.
Do you know what a “Texas Longhorn” speech is? It’s two main points with a lot of bull in between.
The U.S. dollar is beginning to smell like a fire hydrant at an international dog convention.
And, inflation has put the two-paycheck family in the same soup as the one paycheck family was two-generations ago.
Have a good ‘un.

WHAT HAPPENED?

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“GOD LOVES EACH OF US AS IF THERE WERE ONLY ONE OF US.”

Saint Augustine

 

What just happened? We have made it through Easter ending the forty days that Christians have spent preparing for. Many made their one trip of the year to a service and it makes them feel better. They tell us that more and more are not going to a service and many just get caught up in the worlds many distractions. Many say that they are “spiritual” but not a member of any congregation.

This explains the current loss of more and more freedoms as scandal after scandal shake the political world. Well Satan is feeling pretty full of himself. Afterall he does rule the world and the nation that was created under God’s providence is slowly turning away from God given rights to the edicts of people dedicated to serving the darkside. The war that should have never again occurred is know raging. The powerful nations that ignore God are threatening war. Like the Roman Empire the corrupt leadership continues to be self centered and will be taken down by Barbarians.

As for my house, we will serve the Lord. Remember the passage? Well we do.

I hope that you had a good gathering this year celebrating the Risen Christ. No matter what I say or write, the world will continue to hate the followers of love and peace.

The words of Saint Augustine should remind us that we are truly unique individuals. Being that we are each his or her one of a kind, remember that each will give account for our sins individually. Knowing that no matter what I do I will depend on the mercy of the one who paid the price of our sins. But that don’t mean we put the Lord God to the test. We at least need to make the effort.

 

In My Day

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lee pitts

The Arabs believed that your horse’s life should be divided into three phases; the first seven years in training, the second seven years will be the horse’s prime and most productive years and the last seven years you should lend your horse to an enemy or someone you don’t like.

I believe that a human life can likewise be divided into three segments only instead of seven years the human life can be divided into three 25 year fragments. During the first 25 years youngsters have lots of exuberance and good ideas but they have little experience in the ways of the world, so they spend most of their time in school. In training, if you will. When they do finally leave home and attempt to advance in the world they are held down by stodgy old bosses who fear for their jobs.

The second 25 years are the prime working years when a person should have equal portions of exuberance and experience. This is the human’s sweet spot. Finally, in the last 25 years, when senior citizens have oodles of experience, but little energy, they spend their days going to garage sales, doctor appointments and napping. Lots of napping. There will always be, and always has been, a tug of war played out between the younger demographic and the older one.

Back in my day the oldsters never had the slightest idea what was in the hearts and minds of my generation, whose sole purpose in life was getting under the skin of the old fogies. We lived our lives trying to come up with ways to irritate them. My generation grew their hair long, listened to psychedelic music, used drugs, wore colorful bell bottom pants, went to Woodstock to have sex in the mud and escaped to Canada to avoid the draft.

We sat with the old folks on the couch to watch The Wonderful World of Disney where never a cuss word was uttered nor a breast laid bare. Then our parents and grandparents were shocked out of their long johns when on the Ed Sullivan show Elvis “The Pelvis” Presley did things never before seen on television. As if that wasn’t bad enough old Ed next brought the Beatles to America’s attention with their long hair and wild ways.

Now days the youngsters get under my generation’s skin by turning their bodies into fleshy canvasses for tattoo artists, getting studs in their tongues, rings in their nostrils and other metallic hardware installed in unmentionable places. For gosh sakes, they have more ear ornamentation than a common cow.

The youngsters befuddle people my age by listening to rap music with four letter words, constantly expanding their digitable and downloadable world by playing on their cell phone, riding their skateboards on the sidewalk and using the word “awesome” in every sentence, like you know? They too experiment with illegal dangerous drugs while the oldsters at least have prescriptions for theirs. And what is this fetish the young people have for guns? When I was their age the only Colt 45 kids wanted to get their hands on was a brand of beer known for its potency. (If you could drink a six pack you were a real stud!)

In my day we at least pulled our pants up. Now days it seems there is a competition to see how low they can go without having their pants fall off entirely. I have no idea how some of these kids keep their pants up. I just know they’re doing it to irritate us.

In my day we at least had paper routes and lawns to mow while today’s urban killers of their father’s dreams avoid work like it was the plague and they keep coming back home like the sparrows to San Juan Capistrano.

To complicate matters now we have old guys who refuse to act their age by gathering up what little hair they have left into a pony tail. Such a man is a traitor to our cause. As for me, I’m going to hire a mercenary to fight this generational guerrilla war for me because honestly, I just don’t have the energy to fight this un-winnable skirmish. I say un-winnable because by the time a man realizes his father was right, he has a son who thinks he’s wrong.

 

Lettuce Eat Local: Marrying into Verenike

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Amanda Miller
Columnist
Lettuce Eat Local

 

Like in any marriage, when Brian and I got married, I knew some of the things I was “marrying into.” Perhaps the most obvious, besides the presence of in-laws, was the family dairy farm — it’s hard to hide 350 cows. Brian is the youngest of the kids but the only one who wants to farm, so that was a given for our relationship and future. 

Of course family traditions and ways of doing and approaching things also come with that territory, and in my case, the physical territory did too as I moved to Kansas from Ohio. A lot of things from the conjunction of family and community are now part of my life, thanks to Brian’s bringing me into his life here. Some were expected and some are not, some are more appreciated and some are not, some are obvious and some are not. 

This past weekend at the Kansas Mennonite Relief Sale I was reminded of one of the more unique foodways I’ve acquired: I married into verenike. Those of you who know what I mean, you know what I mean. For those of you who are unintroduced like I was pre-Miller, verenike (pronounced va-ren-i-ka) is a dry-cottage-cheese filled ravioli/pierogi/dumpling very traditional to Russian Mennonites. Or Ukrainian, or German, it’s hard to get concrete information on verenike, or varenika, or varenyky, etc.

I think partly the reason their origin is so nebulous is because they’ve been passed along through the generations exactly like how they are for my family. Everyone who knows verenike either grew up with them, or married into them, but rarely are they left behind.

This is just my take, but they’re probably also rarely picked up by anyone who has no prior connection to them. I mean, they’re fine and all, but I eat them for the accompanying ham gravy. (And if you’re bristling at my callousness, then I’m guessing you have memories of verenike from your childhood.) Don’t get me wrong, I make them sometimes, but they are a lot of work, so I’m either feeling very loving towards Brian or know it’s for the kind of people whose eyes light up when you mention them. 

Actually, that’s not entirely fair. I also like making them for people who have no idea what they are, because even though I married into them and don’t necessarily enjoy them myself, they are one of the beautiful ways to share and pass on cultural treasures. I want my children to grow up with fond memories of them, just like their daddy. 

And fortunately, if I don’t feel like making verenike, I know there’s an annual chance for my kids to make memories of them anyway — the Kansas Mennonite Relief Sale, held every year on the Kansas State Fairgrounds in mid-April. I wish I could take a poll of how many of the thousands of attendees would identify verenike and ham gravy as The Reason to come, but judging by the lines out the door, it would rate significantly. For many people, this is the one time a year they eat verenike, and it is certainly a staple of the weekend…and therefore of their culture, whether they grew up with it, married into it, or maybe even just discovered it.

And that I love. Especially if it comes with an extra ladle of ham gravy. 

 

Creamy Ham Gravy

I know, I know, the whole article was about verenike, but did you notice how I stressed how time-consuming they are to make? The filling, dry cottage cheese, is only available in a very few select locations, which is why I make mine, but that only adds another layer of effort necessary for their creation. I am Mennonite both by choice and heritage, but not a verenike Mennonite, so I have no qualms telling you to just go find some cheese tortellini (I’ve never tried this but they seem like they could be baby verenike) or bake up some biscuits, just some vehicle by which to enjoy your ham gravy. OR go to the KMRS next April, or Carolyn’s Essenhaus in Arlington, KS on the first Friday of the month.

Prep tips: This recipe is very basic, so make sure to use decent ham; and season well, in accordance with whatever you’re serving it on. 

2 cups diced ham

6 tablespoons butter

¾ cup flour

1 teaspoon each salt and pepper, plus more as desired

4 cups whole milk/cream

Sauté ham in butter until nicely browned on the edges; stir in flour and seasonings. Add milk gradually, whisking well, and cook until thick and smooth.