Blogs

Bart has a lot going on. He grows barley, wheat, sugarbeets and hay on his southern Idaho farm. He’s got a little feedlot where he finishes a couple hundred head each year. He buys, sells and hauls about a gazillion loads of hay annually. He’s as conscientious a neighbor as you’ll ever find.

When I was 13, my dad bought a farm. It was a little over 100 acres and was mainly watered with the use of handlines and flood irrigation.

See if you spot any connections in these three news blips and one commentary:

I survived, among other things over the years, riding home from Preston, Idaho, 16 miles to Mink Creek atop bagged grain that was loaded in the back of Dad’s 1948 or ’49 Ford F-3 pickup.

Jackpot, Nevada, is a wide spot in the road about 50 miles south of Twin Falls, Idaho. The town was founded in 1954, shortly after Idaho banned slot machines.

Although there is still a month left of summer, fall seems just around the corner. I know it is the county fair that makes me feel that way. As a kid, the county fair marked the end of summer and the start of a new school year.