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Read online content from popular Progressive Forage columnists including Paul Marchant and Brad Nelson, as well as comments from Progressive Forage editor Lynn Jaynes.

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Last month, Bill lost one of his prized Tennessee Walkers to sudden colic. Like most Idahoans with horses, he’d grown up with quarter horses and taught his own kids to ride on quarter horses. In his late-middle years, his good friend and hunting buddy, Don, introduced him to the gaited horse. One smooth gaited ride and he was converted.

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Back in pre-hysteria days, when we could freely watch a high school basketball game unhindered by the fetters of a crafty little virus, I made a short trip from my place to the hamlet of Murtaugh, Idaho, to scout a game involving a couple teams, one of which would be the opponent of my hometown Oakley Hornets in the next round of the conference tournament.

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Google says “perdiddle” or “padiddle” are Canadian and North American terms that refer to a vehicle with one headlight or one taillight burned out.

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My husband decided to buy a used Harobed (as we call them, and no, that’s not misspelled, although many use the spelling “harrow bed” erroneously; the machine was invented in the late 1950s by Gordon Grey, who named it by spelling his daughter Deborah’s name backward, so the story goes; for those in other parts of the haying world, I’m referring to a stacker … but I digress).

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For the first blog of the year, I thought I should include a few jokes – you know, for kits and gaggles. It’s been a tough year, and I think we could all use a few “calfs” (I warned you – watch those puns). I’ve been hearing a lot of jokes about sheep I thought I could share. I started telling them to my dog to test them out, but she’s “herd” them all. I tried telling them to the cows next, but they were just “laughing stock.”

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As I type the very words you’re now reading, struggling to make another column deadline for an ever-patient editor, my mind is not entirely focused on the immediate task at hand.

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