Sometimes, things happen, that make you realize that this big bad world can actually seem quite small.

     A month ago, I received an email from a lady that works the AET.  AET is the ag experience tracker.  It is a web-based record keeping company that all FFA chapters use for records, journals and award apps.  I’m not necessarily a big fan.  Anyways, as I’m reading the email, I’m asking myself, “Why is she reaching out to me?”  She was offering to come to this part of the world and teach a class on how to utilize AET to its fullest.  Once again, I’m thinking, “I can operate it.  I don’t like it.  But, I can run it.”  

       But then, at the end of the email, she added, “I have a friend named Jerry Hunter that was bragging on your program.”  Well hell!  I know Jerry.  His daughter grew up with Tammy.  Even still, I did not immediately respond as I wasn’t sure that I wanted to host/attend an AET workshop.  

       The next morning, I walked into the Gage quick stop.  The morning coffee drinkers were already dispersing.  I grabbed my Little Debbie oatmeal cream pie and headed to the checkout.  One of the coffee drinkers had circled back around and came back in to catch me.  Dean Chapman says “Hey Kelln, did a computer lady contact you?”   Me–“What?  A computer lady?   No.”

      He said, “Yeah, a real nice lady.  She works for some computer company that all of you ag teachers use.”  Me–“Oh, yeah.  AET lady.  Sure, I got an email yesterday.”

       Dean said, “I met her when we were in the hospital in Houston.  Super good person.  You need to have her come up here.”  Cool.

      So, I sent a text to the county ag teachers, half expecting them to NOT be interested in an AET workshop.  Hit send and then ding, ding, ding.  They all immediately replied that they were in.  SO, I replied back to her and a workshop was scheduled.  

       Last week, the Shattuck Ag Ed department hosted ag teachers from 5 counties as Mary Wilson from AET taught us how to better operate the program.  Free!  She only had to drive about 9 hours from Dayton, TX to Shattuck, America.  All I had to do was get her a hotel room and cook lunch.  Wicked cool!  

        Mary turned out to be a retired 30 year vet of teaching ag at Barber Hills.  Her husband was an ag teacher.  Her son is an ag teacher.  Her brother-in-law just happens to be the founder of AET.  She had met Jerry and Dean when she had her dad in the hospital in Houston during Hurricane Harvey.  They have stayed in touch and she got to visit her Okie friends while she was here.  

        Did I learn anything?  Hells Yeah!  Excellent workshop.  All of the teachers had positive responses.  Plus she had some great stories about teaching and ag (80s rice farming, Chrysler and the chinese–I didn’t know).  Small world!

      Also about a month ago, late one Friday evening, I get a text from a random #.  “Hi, i ran across an old milk can labeled kelln produce shattuck ok and wondered if it was any relation to you.”

        We all know how I love anonymous texts.  So, I fired off “Who is this?”   No reply.  So, I sent a follow up text that I was interested.  Now, I really wasn’t that interested in an old milk can but I random text on a Friday night while I was smoking 150#s of pulled pork.  The pork might not have been the only thing smoked.  He finally responded with his name and that “My grandfather had a dairy and I look at old bottles and cans and saw this at an estate sale in Tulsa and thought I would trx contacting family.”   Guess what happened when this dude googled Kelln.  Yep, the first thing on the google search was this piece of paradise website.  

       So, I called him.  He texted me a pic of the milk can.  He lived in Ponca City.  The can was in an estate sale the next day in Tulsa.  He said he would try to get the can.  He got it bought and I told him I would be through their in the upcoming weeks.  

        I sent a pic of the milk can to my dad who found a 91 year old Kelln cousin that remembered the Kelln Produce store in Shattuck back during the 20s through 40s.  This milk can was stamped with Kelln Produce Shattuck OK.  Not painted on it–stamped.  The milk came from a dairy in Hutchison, KS.  

        Anyways, I made it to Ponca City.  Met up with  Clark Estes and his wife.  We told both sides of our stories about this milk can.  Good people.  I asked him what I owed him.  He said, “Well, let me tell you some more of the story.  I went in to work on the Monday after I first contacted you.  One of my co-workers asked if I did anything cool this weekend and I told him about finding a milk can with a weird-spelled name on it and I tracked a guy down in Western OK that is an ag teacher and I got the can for him.”  My co-worker said, “Oh hell!  Was it Kelln?”   “Uh yeah.”  And then my co-worker started telling me stories about you and then another co-worker walked in, listened and then said, “You all talking about Kelln?”  

     Guess what?  Both of these co-workers had kids that showed goats.  I knew the guys, just didn’t know where they worked.  Small world.

     I pulled out my wallet to pay him.  He said, “I have $40 tied up in getting the can.  I know you are a teacher and may not have much extra cash and I have had a lot of fun with this deal.  If you can’t pay it, don’t worry about it.”  How cool is that?  Wicked cool!  I handed him a $50.  Assured him I could afford it, shook his hand and thanked him.  

       There is a lot of screwed up stuff in this world of ours.  Yet, there are so many good things from good people that can just randomly happen because it can be a small world.  There is way more good than bad.  

      In closing, I met some cool people, learned about a program that I didn’t like but now understand better.  And I have a milk can.  And yes, I’m a little concerned as to what stories were told about me at work that Monday morning.  

People, have a good day and a better tomorrow.  

      It was a hot, windy miserable SOB here in paradise.  6 am found me catching mini herefords.  It’s a good thing that they are tasty cuz they aren’t fun.  6 pm found me sorting weaned calves.  Guess what breed the two pain in the asses of the group are?  Yep, mini herfs.  

      Came inside tonight and cooked for the ladies that were working on the sheetrock removal of the bathroom remodel.  I turned on the tube and actually had a decision of what to watch.   A wicked movie called Tommy Boy or an awesome movie called Armageddon.  I’m not saying that they are the 2 best movies ever.  However, if I was to get 2 draft picks of all-time great movies and ended up with these 2…..well, that would be wicked awesome!   

        Speaking of wicked & awesome!  It is no secret that I am surrounded by wicked awesome chicks!   Wife, daughter, MIL, SIL(plural), nieces and oh yeah, MY MOM!   Unlike her three sons, everybody loves Debbie Kelln.  Great cook.  Great role model.  The Holy Name Catholic Church in Shattuck, America would probably not still be operational if not for her.  She and JQ managed to raise 3 border-line-outlaw Kelln males that have gone on to be productive citizens with smoking hot wives and each one of us has a wicked daughter and an awesome son.  (maybe it’s the other way around)

         I knew this story but until she posted it on book face, I hadn’t thought of it in this perspective.  Over 35 years ago she was diagnosed with a very aggressive breast cancer.  I remember some serious praying and then boom she was in the hospital undergoing surgery.  It all happened real quick.  I was old enough to know that it was serious but still young and dumb enough to not realize how serious.  I remember Dad was nervous as hell.  I didn’t want to go to the hospital.  I was afraid.  The two younger brothers knew less than I did.  Looking back, if Mom wouldn’t have made it, Dad probably would have rightfully smothered me and justifiably drowned Jake.  Daniel might have survived just because he was really young.  Dad won’t argue with the fact that mom is wicked awesome!  

        And now, over 35 years later, she never underwent radiation or chemo.  But no more cancer.  She has now lived longer post-breast cancer than pre-cancer.  Power of prayer you ask?   You damn right!!   It worked then and is working now!!!!   I could write some more but it is hard to get more wicked & awesome than that.  

      Cheers to Deborah Ann Kelln and all of you other wicked awesome badass chicks out there!   And to all of you readers that have nothing better to do than read this stuff, cheers to you and all of the other cancer survivors, prayer warriors and people that make the world go like a wicked, awesome RATT song……Round and Round.   

       Tommy Boy—–     Anytime that I’m having a bad day, somebody should just shut me down and make me watch Tommy Boy.  Spanktravision, Buddy Whackit, the Yankees and Spanky.   

         One of the highlights of my day was doctoring some goats.  That and sealing a septic tank.  Not awesome.  However, after a day full of being sandblasted, windblown and manure splattered, this shower is going to feel awesome!

        I’ve got to make time for this dairy can story.  

        I’ve stayed out of the way of the bathroom remodel.  Well, except for the cast iron bath tub removal.  DANG!!   HEAVY!!!!

        So, I cooked today.  Pizza on the traeger with spicy italian sausage, burger, pepperoni, bacon and mozzarello.  Not bad, but not good enough.  First time to cook a pizza on the traeger.  Tonight, well, we did pork rib chops from Herfy the Hereford pig that were glazed with a roasted chipotle blueberry sauce and plated with sweet corn and garlic butter red taters.  Not bad.  

       Tammy and I sorted cows/calves tonight.  No fight!!!!

       AC in the tractor is out.  I’ve bought the parts but I’m not the mechanic.  That last hour and a half on Saturday was miserable.  Sweep plow problems.  Bearings on a coulter went out.  Fine, chained it up out of the way.  Bearings on the pickers went out.  Fine, chained them up out of the way.  Then wheel bearings on the plow went out.  And took the spindle with it.  That was Tuesday, parts came in Friday afternoon.  Now, done farming and sowing Hegari.  It will either come up or it won’t.  Doe goats or farming?   That question gives me chills.  I may need to sell some farm equipment and buy some doe goats.   Ohhh!?!?!   Yet, no melt downs on my part.  

        Record gilt sales this weekend.  Record goat wether sales last weekend.   Record bred-heifer sales last weekend.  Yet, no one calling BS.  Proven breeders, proven buyers, proven sellers, proven genetics.  Sure, makes sense.  Are there backside deals in place?  Maybe. 

       Why do you read this crap?              People, have a good one and a better tomorrow.  

Is it a cream can or a milk can?

     F&P was a common nickname given to a dude named Frank Powell.  Yes, those were his initials but the letter F was a valuable component to his vocabulary.  He never meant anything negative by it.  However, the “F” word was a noun, verb, adjective, adverb, everything that it could possibly be used for. Those in the hog world knew Frank.  He was a gruff guy but he would do anything to help a kid.  They had some success over the years, especially with spotted hogs.  His daughter Rhylli showed some nice wethers making premium sales at Enid District and Tulsa State Fair.  

      Now, I am going to try to keep this story as clean as possible.  But no matter, this is a TRUE story.  You couldn’t make it up. 

Circa September 2006.  Major County Fairgrounds in Fairview, OK.  The heavyweight crossbred barrow class is being shown.  There is a crew of livestock experts watching this class.  Frank Powell, Fred Slater and Randy Pullan are lined up at the entry gate to the ring.  There are about 15 barrows in the class.  I came walking up to see how close we are to needing to bring the breed champion barrows for the grand drive.  I slide in between Frank and Fred.  I survey the class and look at Frank’s son Barrett.  He is driving a really good blue-butt barrow that should easily win this class and probably the show.  Barrett drives the barrow past the judge and then makes the corner right in front of us.  I take a look at this fine porcine animal as he begins to drive away from us.  I notice something odd about his butt-hole (the pig’s hole).  I asked Frank, “Dude, what’s coming out of your pigs butt?”   In Frank lingo, he replied, “It’s just a Fing wood chip stuck to his Fing butthole.”  

       Now Barrett guided this barrow around the ring and made a pass in front of us.  NOW, the “thing” is sticking out of the butt farther.  OH MY!!!   I can see what it is.  I said, “Frank, that ain’t no wood chip on that pig’s butt.  That’s a condom coming OUT of his butt!”    

       Frank dropped a F bomb or twelve and motioned to Barrett to take his brush and try to wipe it off.  Barrett shrugged and looked at him like WTH?  Pullan and Slater are now seeing this as well.  Of course, I can’t keep my mouth shut.  Lots of commentary was now taking place.  

        The judge, oh, the judge, just happened to be Tom Lamle.  He was sorting the class bottom up and this big blue barrow was getting ready to win this class….easily.  The judge went to the mic and Barrett navigated his barrow right in front of the judge which was also right in front of Pullan, Frank, Fred and myself.  As Barrett turned the pig away to offer up an impressive rear view of hams and yes, a condom coming out of the pig’s butt, the judge began to comment, “I’m going to use this young man’s barrooooow to win this, oh my…this class.”   At this point, the condom came out of the hog and landed on the wood chips…….reservoir tip pointing up.  I’m dying!!!!  Frank said one word!

      Now to clarify, the Powell’s kept their hogs at the Ringwood School Farm.  I’m betting that some of the local high school students used this location as a prime parking spot, er, ah….breeding grounds.  I’m guessing that the condom got tossed into the pig pen and the barrow ate it.  And then passed it, uh, while we were watching him show.  

        To be honest, there was a lot of commentary that I just can’t write on here.  Use your imagination.  The following week, at the State Fair, while Frank was at lunch, there may have been a crew that filled his show box with rubbers. Troy B may know about that.  Maybe not.  

      In closing, this is the ONLY time that I have witnessed an animal be named grand champion shortly after crapping out a condom.  

RIP Frank Powell.  Condolences to the family.  Good people.  

     It truly baffles me that you people read this crap.  Congrats!!   

       There is a lot going on here in the greater Fargo area.  I actually made it to Mass this morning.  And we lived up to one of the songs.  “Seeds scattered and sown.  Wheat gathered and grown.”     Check yes to all of that.  We drilled some cover crops as well as hegari seed.  And yes, when I run the drills, they are basically scattered and sown.  Duke showed up to help move round bales of triticale.  It made better than I thought it would.  Wheat?   Well, yes.  I share-crop 160 acres with the Torrance family.  Some of you know Nathan Torrance.  Yes, his family.  Stellar people.  Could I farm it myself?  Sure. But they have better equipment and they like farming.  So, I gladly provide my 1/3 and hope that both parties come out ahead.  Excellent people.  

        I don’t watch many video auctions.  However, I was stranded in a hotel room on Friday night.  So, I watched Friday Night Fever without any audio.  RUSM?   All of the hype, modern technology and we can’t have audio on the internet version.   I was hoping that Maycon would sell a $100 grand wether.  Come on!   $40K is it?   Further proof that the $70K deal was bullshit!  If the crew in Angelo isn’t selling one for $70K, nobody is/was/whatever.  

      Damn!!   I need a haircut, a shave and a BATH.  Not a shower, but a full-up-to-the-chin tub of steaming hot water BATH!   This bathroom remodel was needed but DANG!!  Off to the back porch shower.  Yep, no kids in this house.  So I can just free step it down the hallway and through whatever rooms I want.  Back porch shower, towel off and then walk it like it’s a homecoming parade.  

       I haven’t written enough yet I have written too much.  Much like the modern media, you didn’t learn much yet you learned more than you cared.  

       On goat news, I turned my herd of 5 does out into a 12 acre trap.  GARP was happy.   Cool stories to come in the upcoming days.  I promise.  

       On a side note, when I listen to George Thorogood, well…..my neighbors do as well.  If it’s too loud, you’re too old!   

“Damnit Tammy, I’m writing a blog!!!   The music needs to be loud.”

       I don’t have time to write much.  Me being busy means that I am probably not in trouble with anybody.  

      It is amazing how many people deal with plantar fasciitis.  One foot or both.  Jamie Kratzer sent me a message about Ariat shoes designed just for this deal.  Now, much like Forrest Gump, I look at everybody’s shoes.  Comfort is king.  Chris Cockreham showed up with some Heel Savers.  Gave a brand new box of em to me.  He said, “A guy gave me a set when he was gimpy.  And I’m just passing the info on.”  Thanks people.  They work.   Feels weird at first but no pain.  Why don’t the doctors know to prescribe this stuff?  

     Trailer sales.  Equipment sales.  I may need to do another equipment sale.  I don’t have anymore of the army feeders but other than that I could have another copy sale of the last one.  Yes, I have another trailer. 

       Have a good one and a better tomorrow.  

      Let me preface this post with this statement, “In all honesty, this guy (me) does not have many current problems.  Just a lot of crap that are inconveniences.  Sure, some of it is WAY serious!  But, seriously, compared to the rest of the world, we don’t have any real problems.”  

       Having said that, here’s what we got going on at the present time.  A couple of weeks ago, I wrote that the nieces were bad ass.  And they are.  However, I mentioned that their grandma was REALLY bad ass!  Well, people….here’s the proof.  Grandma Linda (the mother of the Dragon Lady) had medical experts determine that she had cancer and it was isolated in a kidney.  The medical experts wanted to operate in the “next day or two” in order to remove a kidney.   Couldn’t.  Why?  Grandma Linda had grandkids graduating college and one was getting married in the next couple of weeks.  This surgery will wait.   You can watch all the espn that you want and I do watch it.  But these squat-to-pee nba players needing nights off and having an issue and not playing…..eff that.  This is real world!  A retired, state award-winning teacher postponing a kidney removal surgery in order to attend graduations and a wedding?!  For Real!  People, that is truly BAD ASS!!!   Let’s argue…….I’m waiting…….waiting……waiting……..all I hear is crickets.  That’s what I thought……truly BAD ASS!!!

       There is no doubt that Linda will win this deal.  However, I would appreciate it if you loyal readers fire up a prayer or two.  If you do for her what you did for me and this bad hoof deal…..oh hellll!!!!   Trust you me, I will be posting about that in days to come.  Wonders!   

        Now comes the 1st world problems of Kelln.  For starters, last week the bathtub/shower valve quit working.  So, I tore shit up to get to it and replace it.  No, no.  Time to call a plumber.  Then the sink drains started working slower.  In the rain, I worked to find the septic tank and the clean outs.  Time to call a turd doctor.  So, now I’m getting ready to pay for numerous household items that I wasn’t mentally prepared to have to deal with at this time.  

      I don’t want to gripe about rain but since we laid down 175 acres of triticale; well, we have had 2″.  We’ll take it and deal with it.  That’s why they make hay rakes.  

      I was wanting ou and OSU to both win in the WCWS softball edition.  ou crapped the bed.   I am learning why this fast-pitch softball is becoming a big deal.  Well, I bet they will still have a chance to meet up.  

       And since Tammy is gone helping her mother, I had to take care of the dogs.  The corgiXs are happy to see anybody and everybody.  GARP is pissed that he doesn’t have goats to guard.  And he didn’t want his dog food.  So, I fed him fridge cleanouts.  Dang!!!   He liked the prosciutto rollups that were in the fridge.  But Tammy’s little dog, Winston the Cavapoo, LOVED being on the leash and outside.  I’m not sure if he was eating grass, licking chicken crap or just happy to be outside.  I was happy to be outside, in the sun, no wind and it wasn’t wet.  I just didn’t lick anything. 

      In all seriousness, we all have real problems.  But if you are reading this crap, you are in the top 10% of the wealthiest people on the planet.  What?  Seriously.  We don’t have to worry about the safety of our food.  We have internet capability (some better than others).  We have shelter, food, water, sanitary conditions and wait, what?  Seriously, we can have stock shows.  And weird little dogs.  Yep.  My prostate “felt” smooth and my psa levels were low. Not sure how that tied to the weird little dog.  

      Time for me to go lock the chickens up, take the little dog to crap outside, stretch my right foot and get another one.  Not in that particular order.  

       Here’s to the real struggle that people are enduring.  I truly hope that all of you are better off than I am.  KICK ASS to my favorite mother-in-law!   Horseshoes & Shamrocks!!!!!   You got this!    

   I like music.  NO. That is a wrong statement.  I LOVE good music!  Don’t care if it is rap, country, red dirt, rock, opera, whatever.  I love good music.  Now, most probably think that rock music, especially 80’s rock is my favorite.  They would be kind of right.  Trust me.  A Def Leppard, Tesla, Motley Crue, AC/DC, Van Halen deal is right up my alley.  

       However, great country music is hard to beat.  Very little of this new stuff qualifies as good country music. A couple of weeks ago, I saw a book face post of a picture that had a bunch of the country greats gathered together.  I forwarded this to a freshman student that LOVES old school country music.  I’m talking George Jones, Eddie Arnold, Jim Reeves kind of stuff.   He loves Old school!  

      Now, I’m thinking about the group of country artists that I would like to walk in and see together.  It’s hard.  Harder than I thought.   Why?  Well, I’ll tell you why.  How do you handle the groups?  Seriously.  We’ll get back to that. 

       We need a big table.  Several big tables.  Gruene Hall long table style with multiple rows of tables.  If you’ve never been there, well you should.   Here we go.  

      Front table has George Jones, Tammy Wynette, George Strait, Dolly Parton, Loretta Lynne, Conway Twitty, Patsy Cline & Hank Sr.   You can’t argue with any of those.  The pic that I looked at did NOT have George Strait in it.  You can’t have a country legends pic without King George.  Can’t!  Invalid picture.  

     Next table has Marty Robbins, Charlie Daniels, Keith Whitley, Don Williams and Randy Travis.  I love those dude’s music.  Love it! So good.  I can drive for hours listening to their work.  The superstars at the other tables look up to these dudes.  Seriously, is the best country song of all time ” The Devil went down to Georgia”?  Hard to argue.  Marty Robbins, Keith Whitley, Don Williams and Randy Travis “sound” like country music.  

       Another table has Garth Brooks, Shania Twain and Reba McEntire.  Damn!  How many records have those people sold?  These might be the most commercialized country artists of all-time.  There is a reason why.  They are so good.  And they have a history of giving back and helping up & coming artists.  Oh, there is room for another.  Let’s seat Alan Jackson at this table.  

      The next table would be seated just out of the camera view.  However, this table has Waylon Jennings, Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Hank Jr., & Merle Haggard.  I have never smoked a joint nor taken any drugs.  But let’s be real.  If seated at that table, it would be hard to say no.  Musically, maybe the best table group.  

    Back to the groups.  The Oak Ridge Boys and Alabama change things.  Either one might be the best country music artist(s) of all time.  It’s hard to argue the “oom poppa oom poppa mow mow” of Richard Sterban.  Who you ask?  Yeah, you know it.  The bass from the Oaks.  I’ve got a story about a former student and the Oak Ridge Boys at the Tulsa State Fair.  I’ll have to remember to tell it.  And Alabama….well, you can drive for hours and listen to nothing but hits from that group.  And I have a story about meeting Randy Owen at the Hereford Jr. Nationals.  Both of these groups need their own table.  Let’s also pull up a couple of chairs for Brooks & Dunn. 

     So who is the greatest country music artist of all-time?  In my opinion, Garth is still working towards the top.  He is trying to get ahead of George Strait.  And they would both agree that Dolly is the queen.  Although, the Dragon Lady says it is “Reba”.  I won’t argue with anybody that says that Alabama is the best. 

      George is the king and paved the way for Garth.  Today, George but when it is all said and done, Garth will be the best country artist ever.  I don’t care if you agree or not.  I’ve had fun listening to tunes while typing this crap.  

(no sign off)

     These are just a few of the firsts that I have done since I turned fifty.  

Bifocals–I now have my first pair of bifocal glasses.  And I will be honest, they are kicking my ass.  This is going to take some getting used to. 

Airline tickets–Seriously, I had never made my own airline reservations.  Ever.  Last Monday, I realized that I could squeeze a trip in and went to dealing with the internet travel services.  I did not enjoy it but it worked.  I respect the wife, co-workers, friends and secretaries that have done this crap for me in the past.  I would way rather have somebody else deal with it and I just show up.  

Plantar Fasciitis–Something started hurting like a MOFO in my right foot.  Not fun.  It was my left hoof that I screwed up a couple of years ago.  This was a different kind of pain in the bottom of my right hoof and not fun.  Now, I am learning to do different stretches with that foot.  No matter the species, a hurt hoof is a problem.  

Aleve–(see Plantar Fasciitis)  I had never taken an aleve before today.  Although, I knew a kid that got a sheep kicked out of a state fair because they had used Aleve instead of aspirin.  Drug tests for “naproxen”!  Who knew?  The state fair didn’t know nor anybody else.  At least they were decent to deal with over that deal.  

Car rentals–I had never actually done a car rental until I was fifty.  I had been a part of car rentals but had not actually done it.  Now, I have spent $37 to rent a Chevy Malibu or something similar.  PLUS $20 for insurance.  This seemed cheap to me at the time of rental.  Now, I will always spend more to get a bigger vehicle.  

This would now be a good time to click to a different website and NOT continue reading.  

Prostate exam–YEP!!  You read that right.  Not just a blood test but also the “digital” exam.  As in another person’s “digit” is inserted and checks the prostate.  While sitting in the exam room, I noticed a box of kleenex on the table.  And on the corner shelf, the only items were rubber gloves and a tube of lube.  Nothing else was in the room.

      According to the Doc, 1 of 6 males will have prostate cancer.  But the odds change if you have an immediate family member that has had it (uncle, brother, dad, grandad)   Yep, my grandpa Kelln had prostate cancer.  Now, the odds are 1 in 3.  Guess what that means?  This is now an annual event for me. 

      Was it bad?  No.  I actually scheduled an appointment for next Wednesday and the Wednesday after that. 

     NOO!!!   That was a bad joke.  It was not as bad as I anticipated.  Although, it was like an OB vet clinic visit.  They use a lot of lube.  

       And in true livestock evaluation form, I was judging the doctor’s fingers before this “digital” exam transpired.  

Here’s to firsts in your world and I hope that they all went well for you.  And I truly hope none of you deal with Plantar Fasciitis.  Get me a rusty ice pick.  It would be way less painful.  

       Even though I’m all but out of the goat business, I still have goats to buy for students.  So……that means I’m still traveling, studying genetics and flipping rocks looking for show goats for kids all while staying within a given budget.  I still have an elite taste and well, the budget doesn’t match my taste.  Therein lies the challenge.  I like it!

     A few days ago, I hollered at Clayton Washmon and said, “Let’s go look at some good stock.”  Clayton being a livestock junkie didn’t even ask what species we were going to look at.  It could be Jersey dairy cows and he would go.  So, we drove to Amarillo, hopped on a plane and headed west.  BTW, I highly recommend flying out of Amarillo.  This was a first for me and it was laid back and simple.  

      The central valley of California is EXTREMELY dry.  Wow!  If it ain’t irrigated, it’s dead.  We flew into Fresno.  Another small airport that was friendly and easy to navigate.  The cool thing about the Fresno airport is upon arrival and going down the escalator, the first thing that you see is a John Deere tractor.  AWESOME!   Most of the ads in the airport are for irrigation systems, ag chemical companies, seed and fertilizer dealers.  My kind of place.  

      We jumped in a rental car and drove to Brem Livestock.  Great hospitality, excellent goats and a wicked lineup of bucks.  Unfortunately, they know the value of some of those doe kids.  I don’t blame them.  I, as well would keep them.  Especially the de-horned doe kids.  Which begs the question….Why don’t we de-horn all doe kids?  Leave the horns on the purebreds but disbud the “wether”-genetics.  IDK.  Makes sense to me.  

       Clayton and I picked some Valencia oranges.   Oh, so good.  The Brem crew had some navel oranges for us as well.  Ohhhh!!    Eating these things is kind of orgasmic.  No matter the person, there are a lots of grunts, groans and moaning followed by a lot of juices flowing.  Clayton and I did talk reasons as to the differences between a Navel orange and a Valencia.  We also learned about Sumo oranges.  Any of you that know Clayton understands that he is a man of few words.  But as he said, “Really good trip.”   

        We’ll talk more about goats later.  Here are some of our adventures on this trip.

     It is now standard apparel for a lot of women to wear yoga pants while flying.  This is good and bad.  I understand the comfort level but not all women need to wear yoga pants in public.  However, since this was a livestock evaluation trip, Clayton and I did judge several classes of yoga pants.  This also involved some grunts and groans.  Some good, some not so good.  

       Going through security at Fresno for our return trip, I got busted.  Clayton had picked about 15 pounds of oranges which he put in my carry-on bag.  At the conveyor, the TSA lady asked me, through her mask, “Dew ya half sum tawletries or fewd items in tha bawg.”   I replied, “Hunh?” as I thought about the teacher from Charlie Brown.

She pulled down her mask and said, “Do you have any toiletries or food items in your bag?”   

Me–“Oh yeah!  There is a toothbrush, some deodorant and travel shampoos that I took from the hotel..oh…and some oranges.”

Her–“You mean orange juice?”

Me–“Ma’am, they are really juicy but they are still oranges.  No juice.”

Her–“I don’t know if that will pass or not.”  She pushes the bag into the x-ray machine.  

Next step–“Sir, is this your bag?” 

 “Yes.”  I replied as I stepped forward while putting my shoes back on and buckling my belt.  All while trying to contemplate how Clayton and I are going to eat all of these oranges as there was NO chance of us letting them chunk em.  

“Can you please step over here?” 

“Okay.”

“Sir, you cannot take this aboard this flight.  Do you want to drink it or throw it away?”

“WTH?   Are you serious?  That 8 ounce bottle of water was given to me by American Airlines yesterday along with those pretzels and the hand wipes.”

“Sir, you can’t take this bottle of water on this flight.”

“Okay.  Keep it.  They will give me another one in an hour or so.”

        They kept the 8 ounce bottle of un-opened water that was given to me by the airline and I zipped up my bag that held a bunch of fresh-picked oranges.   Makes sense.  Yoga-pant-wearing ladies could buy starbuck’s products and carry on the flight and I could smuggle oranges in my bag yet, they confiscated the un-opened bottle of water that the airline gave me on Thursday and then gave me another one on Friday.  Ahhhhh!!!  I get it.  Central Cali is in a drought and need to conserve all the water that they can.  Okay!!  

     And you can’t have a livestock adventure without some good food.  Oh yeah!   Mexican food in Porterville was top shelf.  El Tapatio.   HUGE portions, wicked good flavor.  Highly recommend.  

   Over and out for tonight.  More useless information to come in the upcoming days.