Thursday, February 12, 2026
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Frugal vs. cheap

By
John Marshall
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john marshal

Legislators and voters can fall prey to the no-tax hobby farmers who believe township ghosts fix the roads, that the sheriff works for free and schools are fine with library paste and construction paper.

It may surprise them that hospitals and clinics have budgets, that highways don’t build themselves and the grass in parks doesn’t cut itself. The lights come on, the faucet flows and the trash is picked up because government sees to it.

Any township or city worth inhabiting involves expenses (taxes). Even the dead (cemeteries) need attention. The roads to farms need upkeep and so do our streets, bridges and highways. The quality of life in a place depends upon the wisdom of its governors and the understanding of its taxpayers.

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People accept taxes when they know the investment is wise and proper. Taxes are not evil, they are not something to dread. Taxes are the lifeblood of a community. Citizens in places that are better off are citizens who understand the difference between being frugal and being cheap.

The better towns and cities avoid anemia even if it seems painful, because the wise citizen and the smart government know that a community operating on the cheap is likely a community heading for the cellar.

In far-away Topeka, a no-tax life is catnip for fever-dreamers, an easy sell for Know Nothings. Kansans once fell victim to the no-tax hotheads during the dark Brownback years. The rich got richer as revenues crashed and the state began to borrow and spend, bringing the government nearly to bankruptcy. Services from law enforcement and transportation to public health and education withered to the point of wretched.

Elections in 2016 and ’18 brought to Topeka some enlightened legislators and a sharp new governor who put Kansas on a way to recovery. Today we have billions in surplus and savings, a cause for reinvestment, not profit-reaping. We also have a faction in the no-tax crowd who favor a sinister ploy called the flat tax. Fair to all, they claim ‒ all but the middle- and low-incomes.

This is a vision conjured in the dark corners of the American Legislative Exchange Council in Alexandria, Va., a right-wing cause lobby that writes laws for legislators who won’t think for themselves. ALEC’s president is Ty Masterson, who is also president of the Kansas Senate. This is why a flat tax has been proposed and defeated in Topeka five times in three years, and is proposed a second time this year.

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Each day or week wasted on the incantations of out-state special interests is a day or week that we fall behind in deliberating better ways to advance cities and counties because without strong communities we cannot have a strong state.

If legislators care at all about their constituents, they must find their own way through the jungle growth of local worries shared statewide. Health care (Medicaid expansion), public school finance, Highway Patrol recruitment and property taxes are a few for starters.

Outstate influence peddlers are up to their own good, not ours. Legislators who only recently took in their oily bleats learned the hard way that a place will go broke trying to go cheap. Is memory so short in Topeka that apathy is now the coin of that realm?

Easter Salads

By
tammiehoeme
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0

This is the first time I have penned my column from a hospital room. I’m not in the hospital, but my dad has been, for an infection. I’m headed back to southern Missouri the first of the week. So, I’ve been running back and forth between the Hannibal hospital and my hometown of Lewistown. The drive really isn’t bad either, time to think. I have found time to have lunch or dinner with a couple of good friends, which has been grand.

Remember, I’ll be back to northern Missouri for an April 20th speaking engagement, at the Methodist Church Hall, located in Lewistown. If you need to get ahold of someone for tickets I would reach out to Sharpe’s Insurance, they can guide you in the right direction. I’m also debuting a brand-new recipe that day. They asked me for a theme, so it’s titled: ‘Signs, Sampling & Simplicity’. And yes, I do speaking engagements for all types of different settings. Sometimes I demo a recipe, other times I may be focusing on a variety of subjects. I’ve even been known to revert back to my first vocation and perform a song or two. First a musician/teacher followed by culinary teacher/writer/author and lastly director of a non-for-profit, wow, I have been blessed having the opportunity to experience so many different avenues in life, and the great thing is I’m not done yet!!!

If I could change anything it would have been my first vocation, I probably would have sought a medical degree. Don’t get me wrong teaching music and singing was rewarding, but back then I didn’t have enough faith in myself to pursue a science degree. When I didn’t comprehend, I blamed myself for not being ‘smart enough’. Not realizing until much later that it wasn’t me, it was the teacher, not being able to teach, yep, it happens. People spoke without realizing the repercussions of their statements, including teachers, parents and other leaders.

Perhaps that’s why I’m such a positive individual, I know the affects of negativity on young and old minds. WOW, a little self-analogy there!

Now, let’s talk salads! I decided to run two older recipes that are very simple and will satisfy two totally different palate needs. An old-fashioned ‘whippy’ salad and a simple Mandarin Oriental Salad. My spouse still enjoys the old-fashioned whipped salads, and I’ve actually found they are easy to make in a lower-sugar

content. On the fresh, mandarin oriental salad, the dressing is your only caloric concern. This salad would be good to prepare with a grilled chicken breast across the top. Change the mandarin oranges to fresh strawberries. I don’t see any cheese in the original recipe, feta, goat cheese or parmesan would be an outstanding addition. You can switch the almonds out for walnuts. I also wouldn’t turn down a few halved white grapes on the salad. As you look at the presentation with strawberries versus mandarin oranges you might change out to a fresh green onion instead of the red onion.

In the mandarin orange version, you could also grab honey, orange juice, herbs, oil and vinegar to make a fresh dressing instead of the Asian Sesame Dressing, purchased at the store.

Hopefully you won’t over-due things on Easter weekend. Be sure and prepare so you’ve got leftovers for later in the week. I’m actually thinking about doing a pork loin this year instead of a standard ham. I don’t know my sides just yet, but I’m sure I’ll have it laid out by Wednesday, following sale ads!

Let’s keep doing great things and listening to those around us. Simply yours, The Covered Dish

Lemon Fluff Salad

1 large can (20 oz.) chunk or crushed pineapple, use all juice

1 regular box of instant lemon pudding

1 can mandarin oranges, drained

1 (8oz.) carton cool whip, or make it fresh!

Marshmallows, if desired.

Chopped pecans might be interesting to add too

Mix pineapple and pudding, stirring well. Fold in whipped topping, oranges and marshmallows. Chill. Mother indicates this stirs up very fast, and she likes to use it when you need something quick. Betty Dance

Up with the Chickens

By
Steve Gilliland
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Trail cameras and talking with land owners are both great ways to access wildlife numbers and locations, but whether hunting deer, turkeys or coyotes, nothing replaces actual “boots-on-the-ground” where you want to hunt. Retirement can easily make a person lazy, and I can still remember the argument I had with myself one spring morning last year over whether or not I really wanted to get up with the chickens to spy on a group of turkeys whose routines I was trying to figure out before hunting season opened. You can never lose by arguing with yourself, so I still don’t know whether I won or lost, but there I sat watching the sun come up. The river was just to my right, and about a quarter mile in front of me it wound around to my left, then right again and was gone. I sat overlooking a meadow bordered by trees along the river where a small flock of turkeys usually roost each year.

The morning was very calm and the sounds were nothing short of spectacular. A pair of great horned owls called back-and-forth to each other, their smooth cooing “hoots” serenely ushering in the day. To the far left end of the crop field a creek wound like ribbon candy through a small pasture, and from somewhere in the trees there, the sharp crisp call of a barred owl pierced the silence. Its unmistakable pattern of “who cooks for you – who cooks for you too” is easily distinguished from the great horned owl call when heard together. Loud noises often compel tom turkeys to gobble near or after dark, helping reveal to the hunter where they are roosted, and the loud shrill call of the barred owl is often mimicked by turkey call makers.

I sat in a small woodlot that teemed with songbirds of every description, their sweet melodies filling the gaps in time between owl calls. I recognized the “pretty pretty pretty pretty” song of several male cardinals, frequently punctuated by the sharp crisp cackle of a rooster pheasant or two. The time frame was very interesting, as the symphony began in earnest at the first hint of daylight, but the lighter it got, the quieter the symphony played.

Then there were the stars of the morning show, the wild turkeys. I was there trying to pin down just where they roosted, as their chosen nighttime perch high

in the trees changes slightly from year to year. That morning, two or three toms were gobbling quite a ways ahead of me along the stretch of river running across the end of the crop field. After a while, their gibberish gobbles were a little fainter each time, telling me they had flown to the ground already and were heading in the opposite direction. I drove around the section, stopping at a couple spots to glass the fields with binoculars, but I never found them.

Starting any morning by watching and listening to God’s miraculous Creation awaken makes it easy to say “I wouldn’t have missed that for the world.” But like I said, retirement can make a guy lazy. So, the next time my decision is whether to stay there beneath the warm covers next to my warm wife, or to arise with the chickens to go to the woods, I imagine the argument with myself will be just as strong as it was that morning. But I predict I’ll rise with the chickens again, and I still won’t know whether I won the argument or not…. Continue to Explore Kansas Outdoors.

Steve can be contacted by email at [email protected].

Hard lessons in farm safety

By
Milo Yield
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0
Thayne Cozart
Milo Yield

Anyone who’s been involved in food production knows that farming and ranching rank near the top as the most dangerous profession. Nearly every aggie knows someone who has suffered from some type of serious farm accident.

The subject of farm safety brings to mind a time years ago when I wuz charged with teaching farm safety to farm youth. I figgered that the best way to get across the importance of practicing farm safety to rural youth wuz to find someone who could speak authoritatively on the subject.

Eventually, I found an elderly farmer who fit the bill. This poor unfortunately fellow clearly had evidence of what can happen if farm safety is treated nonchalantly. This guy had a peg leg and a hook on one arm because it wuz before the advent of modern prosthetic limbs. He also wuz sightless in one eye and had a patch over it. In short, he seemed a perfect example to teach the value of farm safety. And, he agreed to share his experience.

So, at our first meeting with a group of youngsters we decided the best way to break the ice with the group wuz to have the youngsters ask questions.

The first inquisitive youngster asked the gentleman, “Sir, how did you happen to get a peg leg?”

The gentleman replied, “Well, I wuz trying to hitch my tractor up to a heavy piece of equipment and it wuz on a downhill grade. When I backed the tractor up, I neglected to get the emergency brake set properly and while I wuz trying to get hitched up, the emergency brake broke loose and the tractor rolled down and crushed my leg between the drawbar and the machine. My carelessness caused this peg leg.”

Then a second youngster popped this question: “Sir, what happened your arm? Why do you have a hook?”

The gentleman replied, “Once again, I failed to take the proper safety precaution. I wuz harvesting wheat and the combine got plugged. I tried to unplug it without shutting off the engine. While I wuz tugging on one of the belts trying to get it to move, suddenly the combine unplugged itself, but I couldn’t get my hand out of the way in time and the belt pulled my hand into the pulley and my hand got pinched off at the wrist. That’s the sad story about my hook for a hand.”

Then a third youth inquired: “Sir, why do you have a black patch over your eye? How did that happen?”

The gentleman took a deep breath and answered: “Well, young’un, that’s the saddest farm accident of all three. I had a pitchfork and wuz mucking some moldy hay out of an old barn hay mow. It wuz hot in the barn and I took my hat off momentarily to wipe the sweat from my brow. At that very instant, a pigeon decided to fly out of the barn and, when I glanced up, it pooped squarely in my right eye.”

The youngster came back with, “But, sir, some pigeon poop in your eye wouldn’t cause you to lose your eyesight.”

The gentleman replied tartly, “It did because I instinctively tried to wipe it out of my eye and it wuz my first day with my hook!

I hope this story prompts better farm safety practices on your farm or ranch.

***

I never think twice about telling funny stories that happen to my friends. Therefore, I shouldn’t exempt myself when something funny happens to me. And, last week at one of our Old Geezer Gathering something happened to me that gave everyone a good laugh.

Here’s what happened: I wuz leaving our morning gathering and already had my pickup keys in my hand when I opened the door to go outside. At that very moment, my cell phone rang. Naturally, at my age I fumbled around trying to extract my cell phone from my overalls bib pocket.

When I finally got the phone answered, it wuz the same miserable, unintelligible foreigner trying for the millionth time to sell me supplemental Medicare insurance. After I summarily and curtly dismissed that bothersome idiot, I went to my pickup truck and couldn’t find my keys.

I looked in every pocket of my overalls and jacket. No keys. So, I decided to backtrack to the front door and see if I dropped them there when I fumbled to answer my phone. No keys.

So, I went back to the tables where my geezers friends were still gathered and explained my dilemma. About the time I finished with my lost keys tale, one of the geezers pointed to the floor and asked with a smirk, “Reckon maybe they could be those keys that just fell on the floor out of your pants leg.” That’s when all the geezers got a good laugh.

Sure enuf. I looked down and there were my keys. What happened is that in fumbling with my cell phone, I dropped the keys down the front of my overalls. I had to walk quite awhile for the keys to work their way out of my pants leg. I never did feel them.

***

One “geezer topic” this morning wuz the changes in dentistry that we’d experienced down through the years. One fellow recalled from his younger days when he went to a dentist for some routine work, the dentist had on a white apron with fresh blood stains all over it. “He looked more like a meat cutter than a dentist,” he recalled. “It wuz kinda scary.”

***

My words of wisdom for the week are: “If I woke up and nuthin’ hurt, I’d think I wuz dead.”

And, “whoever made the executive decision to put the ‘s’ in fastfood wuz a marketing genius.”

Have a good ‘un.

“Nebraska Rescue Horses Sold At Auction” “Skijoring Becomes Popular Sport For Skiers Pulled By Horses”

By
Frank Buchman
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0

Nebraska Horse Rescue Horses Sold At Auction

Epona Horse Rescue, missing most of the animals that called it home, was the quietest it’s been in more than half a year after an emotional procession.

Volunteers loaded thirty-seven of the horses seized by Gage County, Nebraska, officials in August onto trailers to haul to auction.

More than a hundred people packed into the Palmyra Livestock Market stamping their feet, clapping their hands, and waging bidding wars.

Epona founder Lin Guyton was hoping to bring home all of the horses, but $62,000 later, she came out with 13 and few more that others bought possibly on the way.

“We will get the rest adopted out into homes,” Guyton said. “Each and every single one of them deserves an individual home.”

Guyton said the auction was disappointing and frustrating.

A few weeks ago, Epona volunteer Tanya Martin-Dick discussed her love for one of the horses, Phoenix, who came to the non-profit near death.

“I just begged him to hang on,” Martin-Dick said. “And I said, I’ll come feed you. I’ll come love you. Please don’t die.”

She won her bid for him.

“He’s gonna have a beautiful life with me,” Martin-Dick said.

The sale brought in $184,097.25, most of which will go back to the court. And after all outstanding fees are paid, the rest will go to Jennafer Glaesemann, who Gage County officials seized the horses from.

It’s a case that zigged and zagged across a long seven months, and some are just glad it’s come to some closure.

“I hope they have homes that will take care of them, realizing where they came for them,” Gage County Sheriff Millard Gustafson said. “And making a better life for them.”

Gustafson said he isn’t sure yet how much of the money will end up going back to Glaesemann.

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Skijoring Becomes Popular Sport For Skiers Pulled By Horses

Skijoring dates back hundreds of years but is relatively new in the states.

Combining skiing and rodeo events create a popular new pastime, according to residents of Leadville, Colorado.

Skijoring typically involves a competitor on skies trailing a horse, although dogs and even cars can be used in variations of the sport.

References date the beginning of skijoring to as far back as 13th century China. The Laplanders of Scandinavia adapted it as a way to travel in the snow and ice.

In 1901, the first skijoring competition took place in the Nordic Games. It’s first and last Olympic Winter Games appearance came 27 years later.

While much of the United States doesn’t meet the threshold of winter weather necessary to host such events, but Leadville, Colorado, has embraced it with open arms.

In the old mining town, residents head out to local streets that have been shut down to host some of the only skijoring events in the country.

A team made up of a horse, a rider, and a skier participates in circuit, relay, sprint, or freestyle jumping events along a course up to 1,000 feet long.

“You’re going about 40 miles an hour, the wind is just absolutely hitting your face, your face goes number,” said competitor Savannah McCarthy. “And then you get to the finish line, you hope your skier’s still there, and you do your best to stop your horse if you can.”

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