Blogs

I spent a few days around Springfield, Missouri, this fall, and although I was a couple weeks too early to take in the spectacular scenery of the beautiful autumn colors the Ozarks annually offer up, I was somehow caught up in the spirit of the Shepherd of the Hills.

Why is it a farmer can run a $300,000 harvester but can’t turn on a dishwasher? Why is it parents and kids can work nine months on a 4-H steer project day after day, but after six hours in the hot sun during the quality show at the county fair nobody cares who wins anymore?

The third week of July was especially busy and extremely hot in southwest Virginia for the members of the Old Glade Antique Tractor Association (OGATA) as we were preparing for our 10th annual summer show.

Little America, Wyoming, is a unique truck stop/tourist haven on I-80 west of Rock Springs. It’s aged. First time I was there in the 1970s, it was huge and spectacular. By today’s standards, it’s only a moderately sized freeway oasis. The wind always blows, and the softy ice cream machine is always running.

I’ve never been particularly fond of birds of any sort. Really, there’s nothing pleasant about a mess of nasty starlings or pigeons nesting in the eaves of the calving shed or devouring the silage pile. It’s the bird world’s answer to rodents – pure avian avarice.

It is like describing a car to a caveman – there is just not a point of reference to build common ground. There is nothing else like experiencing a total solar eclipse.