After the sale concluded, two middle-aged ranchers were chewing the fat in the livestock auction cafe. They knew each other, but hadn’t had the opportunity to really have a relaxed confab for years.

The extraordinary cattle prices were the first topic. The weather was a natural second topic. Crop status had to be covered. And, finally, their conversation came down to discussing their families — and both cattlemen had sizable families — with all their offspring on the own life trajectories.

As they sipped their iced teas, each began telling the stories of his children and how they arrived at their current careers, where they lived, their marital status and grand-children produced.

After they’d completed their respective family rundowns, one rancher sighs and says, “One of the mysteries of life to me is how all my children took different life paths, were raised the same way, and still ended up in a close-knit family.”

The other rancher sagely replied, “Perhaps our kids are like kernels of popcorn. They have the same parents and grew up the same way. And, they are all prepared in the same pot, in the same heat, in the same oil. But, the kernels do not all pop at the same time. Some early. Some late. Every kernel is different. Yet, the vast majority turn out just like expected. There are few duds. So, it doesn’t make sense to compare your children to one another. They each got to where they are in their own personal way.”

I think there’s an important moral to that story.

***

An elderly farm wife went to a big city with her bowling team. She drove alone on the trip. Her only companion was her fluffy little pet dog.

She checked into her motel and decided to take “Fluffy” outdoors to answer a nature call. On the way into the lobby she’d seen the sign that the motel had a designated “Doggie Lawn,” and that motel patrons were welcome to take their dogs to the area, but were also expected to pick up after them.

So, the lady put Fluffy on his leash, grabbed her purse, and headed to the “Doggie Lawn.” In short order, Fluffy used the facility and the pair headed back to the lobby,

But, as she was crossing the driveway, a punk kid stepped out from behind a car, grabbed her purse, and ran off with a laugh.

A witness to the purse snatching ran over and asked if the lady was okay.

She laughed loudly and said, “It’s no big deal. I always carry a ratty old purse to put my Fluffy’s do-do in until I get home. I hope the kid enjoys his heist.”

***

My good Missouri buddy, Willie Jay, continues sending me his personal humorous stories that are worthy of retelling.

Willie is in his 90s and his old hands, like so many of us oldsters, just don’t work as well as they used to. This is a story about Willie and his arthritic hands.

He says his fingers just aren’t nimble enuf anymore to efficiently find the pull-tab on the zipper of his overalls or jeans. To solve that problem, he bored a tiny hole in a penny then wired the penny to the zipper-tab tightly. His old fingers can fine the penny just fine.

Well, he said he wuz at a swap meet, when an observant lady discretely asked him, “Sir, what’s with the penny?”

Without missing such a straight line, Willie replied, “Why, ma’am, that’s a penny for your thought.”

That abruptly ended their conversation.

***

Willie has a knack for solving simple little life problems in novel ways.

After reading about my practical joke herding houseflies, Willie emailed me that he recently had a spate with nuisance flies and gnats in his kitchen.

Here’s how he solved that problem: He put a mixture of a little molasses, wine, lemon and grape juice in a saucer. Then he put the saucer into his microwave and left the door open.

He watched and waited until a lot of flies and gnats were sipping from the saucer and then he slammed the microwave door shut. He said it takes less than five seconds to nuke the flying pests to death. And, he said it’s easy to clean up because the dead are in the saucer and he just dumps it outdoors.

***

Willie also said, with tongue in cheek, that his dad killed flies even simpler. He put some of his homemade wine in a saucer with some sand. He said the flies got drunk and stoned themselves to death.

***

Readers might be ready to stone me after that fantasy joke. I’ve got a casualty report from my ongoing masked bandit war. The first sweet-corn robbing raccoon caught itself in a live trap. But, it was a live traps for only a short time.

Nevah and I froze for the winter sweet corn and peaches we bought. We’ve also canned green bean and tomato juice and whole tomatoes. Plus, we’ve given away a lot of zucchinis and potatoes.

***

Words of wisdom for the week: “You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only option you have!”

Have a good ‘un.