Guest Blog

In my quest for accuracy in Western storytelling, I feel it is necessary to correct one of the myths constantly foisted upon the viewing and reading public. For the record, farm animals are never grateful.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful little valley called Pleasant Valley. Pristine streams ran down from wooded hillsides. Wild game was abundant. Fish flourished. The peasants tilled their farms and irrigated them with mountain water. The livestock grazed the grassy meadows. It was a contented community, though lacking in material wealth.

Long before diesel engines were the primary power source for farm tractors, most early tractors were powered by gasoline or kerosene.

I like to call it the five-minute lie, although that’s probably a little harsh. My husband probably means it when he sticks his head in the door and says, “Hey, have you got a few minutes? I just need you to ...”

Winter sports are a large part of life here in the frozen Midwest, mainly because winter occupies such a large part of our calendar. Ignoring winter would be like trying to ignore an 800-pound gorilla who has taken over your couch and is watching your TV, drinking your beer and whose hands are Day-Glo orange because he has eaten all of your Cheetos.

Hello and Happy New Year’s from southwestern Virginia! I am Lance Phillips, and I’m pleased to be sharing some of my favorite old tractors and haying equipment through this column. I’ve been a pharmacist for almost nine years for a local grocery store chain that serves parts of four states in our area, and I do a little farming when time allows.