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      May 15, 2022 is 30 years that the Dragon Lady and I have been married.  There wasn’t a conventional wedding.  We went to the courthouse in Lipscomb, TX and got hitched.  We told our parents afterwards.  Some said that it was about time, since we already had a two year old daughter.  Might not have been the proper start but I know a lot of people that started out under better conditions and they didn’t make it to 30.

       Last week, I went to the flower store.  I told them that I wanted an arrangement that had 30 roses in it.  One lady was like, “That’s going to cost a lot!”  So.  I picked out some red roses, some white roses and some white roses that had red tips.  The owner took care of the floral arrangement.  When I went to pick them up, she was like, “Kelln, you know that you don’t have to buy her anything.  Just the fact that you remembered will be present enough.”  You are right.  Then I headed to the jewelry store.  

       Sunday, May 15 found us at O’Brate Field watching Okie State baseball versus Texas Tech.  This was supposed to be a wicked cool day as we have a former student that plays for OSU and another one that pitches for Tech.  Well, the Techster is on the injured list for another week.  And the Cowboy didn’t get to start but he hit well once they put him in the game.  That is a phenomenal venue to watch baseball.  

       And we ALMOST didn’t make it to 30.  Friday, May 13 found me needing some help sorting cows & calves.  I knew not to ask her for help but there was nobody else available.  For the most part it went fine.  But then at the end, she just couldn’t follow directions.  Whew!!   We made it through it.  

       Congrats to all of you that make it to milestone wedding anniversaries.  It’s  probably a good thing that I don’t have many goats around.  We might make it for a few more.  

Log in

      I thought that I might ought to login to this thing just so I could remember the login info.  

Just Got Paid

     You cannot use that name “Just Got Paid” for a buck, bull, ram or boar.  Copyrighted.  I called dibs first right here on 4-26-2022.  Mine.

       Now, if you want to use “Just Gotsa Get Paid”  have at it.  


      I don’t know where ZZ Top ranks with you people, don’t care.  That is a band that I can listen to for hours.  Bluesy, ROCK, soul, country, really cool with a whole lot of Texas attitude….all of the above.  That lil ol’ band from Texas managed to play as a trio for FIFTY years.  Their best stuff came from the 70s but the stuff that made me like them and made them famous was the videos from the 80s.  They embraced/helped build MTV and therefore, MTV embraced them.   

       I don’t have a cool ZZ Top story, well, except for the fact that I have a cool friend named David Litzenberger.  He’s from Waynoka, which adds to the cool factor. However, if U know David, then you understand that this cat is wicked cool.  Lucky to be alive cool.  All I know is that David was fishing on a lake, in Arkansas, and this boat drove by……painted like that car from Eliminator.  Sure enough, beards and all.  End of story.  Not really.  But we need to save some stories for future deals.

      Let us segue into the rest of the story.  Yes, please.

Them boys from Roger Mills county bought that Mufasa doe from me last year.  $10K isn’t exactly a cheap deal for a 3 year old doe.  Will it work?  Can it work?   OOOHHH!!!    Well, in the words of ZZ Top, they “Just got paid.”  

        We advertised her (and 3 others…stories are coming.) as does that needed to be flushed.  They bought here and did just that.  Investment paid back.  Just Got Paid.   I don’t even know yet if anybody doubled down and kept the nuts.  No matter…..(slow drum beat combined with a rolling bass beat and a gravely vocal sound)  Dudes, they just got paid.   I am happy for them.  

         It might not be Skynyrd, yet it feels so good when it all works out and somebody is going to just get paid.  Congrats to Joey Scott and Andy Ebersole!   Here’s to the next flush.  

La Grange.  “Haa!!!  Haa!!   Haa!!!  Haa!!   You know what I’m talking about?”   I might be mistaken but I didn’t understand anything in that opening line.   

      No matter where you are—work, driving, MD Anderson ER facility, feeding cows in April nearing May, kidding goats (not here), ultrasounding hair sheep (nobody prepared me for this physical assault)–Go fire up a bunch of ZZ Top and some of this will make sense.  For real…..good tunes.  They help the soul.  






      Spent Saturday in the greater Orlando area.  Sorted through the Pfeiffer doe kids that will sell online and then sorted through all of the stock that was selling in The Exclusive sale.  Talked to a lot of people.  Even met some that I had never met before.  

    There was a lot of high quality goats, mainly doe kids.  It would be hard to say which one was the absolute best doe kid in the barn.  Pfeiffer sold a killer.  Cade’s Harlem doe kid was elite.  I thought both doe kids of the Halfmann Brothers were really good.  Dallas Rasmussen brought a wicked good Not Tonight kid.  There were others.  Lots of people were there to spend money on goats.  

      Great facility, great crowd, great goats and great people combined to make a great sale.  

Have a great day and a better tomorrow.



       “Ha ha!  Joke’s over.  Just give me my wallet back and you can keep all of the cash in it.”


       At 6 am this morning, I asked the Dragon Lady if she had my wallet.  I couldn’t find it.  I knew where I had it last.  I had been looking.  I didn’t care about the cash.  What I did care about was NOT having to cancel/renew a debit & credit card not to mention a school fuel card & credit card as well as a lifetime hunting license, social security card and voter’s ID card.  Oohh!   I shuddered at the thought of trying to gather all of that stuff up.  A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…….I lost my ID and had to re-prove my existence in order to get it all back.  In all honesty, I was prepared to just admit that I was an illegal immigrant and that I would register as a democrat if they just didn’t make me go through all of that crap again.  

        Most of all, I didn’t want to have to jump through all of the hoops in order to get a new copy of my driver’s license, which is made worse because I have a CDL.  

        At 10 AM, I had to be at High Plains Technology Center (the Dragon’s place of employment).  I got there, walked in and said,  “Ha ha!  Joke’s over.  Just give me my wallet back and you can keep all of the cash in it.”   She looked at me and said, “You seriously don’t have it?”   

“No.  And it is a sizable amount of cash.  Just give the rest back to me.”  I was joking.  Not about the cash but I didn’t think that she took it.  I really thought that it fell off of my dresser and her queer little dog had snatched it.  

       It was a HUGE relief when the wallet was found.  And it was found in the washing machine (I looked twice).  Guess who found it?  Yep.  The Dragon Lady.  Hunh?!?!?  Suspicious?!   No. 

      I held true to my word.  Keep the cash and give me the rest of it.  She said, “I am scared of keeping the cash?”    What?  Why?

       “You have $666 in there.  I don’t like that number.”    

OOOHHHHH SNAPPP!  I told her to not take it all.  “Take $665 but whatever you do break that number up.”   

She replied, “I don’t need any of it but I did buy $200 worth of plants today.”     Me—“Take it. Take It.  Just please break that number up.”  I don’t want no bad ju-ju around here.  

      And as the evening wraps ups, I decided to break the seal on a gift.  I hadn’t had it before but I knew it would be good because John Q Kelln AND Tom Kester have both told me it would be good.  I trust them.  

        I popped the seal, poured a little bit over a couple of rocks of ice, took a sip and then proclaimed, “That’s really good.  Smooth.  I like it.”   The Dragon Lady then said, “Perfect!  That fixes all of this.  We were worried about that bad # and now you are ending this evening with Angel’s Envy.  It got better.”  

         Thanks to those that brought me a bottle of Angel’s Envy bourbon.  The timing was perfect to break it out (It has been here for more than a month).  To those that delivered such a prize…..I raise a glass, “Cheers to the success so far and for those awards yet to be realized.  Trust me, one never knows the timeliness of how life works out.  Thank you.”    


        For all of you poor souls that read this drivel.  Take a moment and think about how EFFED up your life is without any cards, ID, etc.  My phone also didn’t work for several hours this morning.  As a whole, we are too dependent on these items.  I am guilty.  You are too.  Get your minds right.  Otherwise, you will end up buying a high dollar goat without a plan.  It’s OK if you have a plan.  But a sin without a plan.  Have a good one.  



Specialty Animals

     Oddly enough, this type of animal has popped up into my memory banks at least twice in the past couple of weeks.  Recently, Greg Boyer sent me a text-LATE-one night, wanting me to re-tell the story.  Then, last week I was judging the FFA creed speaking contest finals.  I asked all four kids–“What does SAE stand for?  and What is your SAE project?”   This one girl got emphatic about talking about her SAE project.  Her excitement combined with all 3 judges being caught off guard led to a new line of questioning about pigeons.  By the way, she did well at answering questions EXCEPT she didn’t know what you call pigeon meat.  She raised racing pigeons and we asked what happens to the slow ones.  I hoped that she would tell me that they got turned into “squab”.  Anyways……

     Back in ’93 to ’96, I served a three year sentence teaching at Billings, OK.  There was only a handful of jobs open that year and there was a bunch of graduates hunting jobs.  Billings it was.  Lucky to get a job. As it turned out, it was a great place for me to get thrown into the fire.  (I could write a book about those three years).  There was/is some really great families in the greater Billings area.  Lots of characters.  

     Probably everybody’s favorite Billings character was Sydney Yost.  Big personality that loved OSU, loved farming, loved his daughters, loved showing cattle and loved competition.  He succumbed to cancer in the late 90s.  I still think about him often and fondly.  His daughters are fun to keep up with on book-face.  Great family! 

     Billings is located in Noble County.  The ag teachers of Noble County got along real well.  We formed the Noble County Ag Teachers Association.  We all worked together and cooperated.  Milligan and Mike Parrish became members at a later date.  For instance, when it came to showing heifers, Randy Henderson at Morrison and I did almost all of the clipping and fitting.  Jon Aaron Linn–dad from Frontier–Taylor Parrish’s grandpa–took care of the building beds and he served as the barn boss.  Steve Houska–dad from Perry–took care of show management–who was up next, showmanship, etc.  It worked well.  We had lots of success as a county team.  And we would travel and eat together.  As a county group, we won and lost together.  Lots of success, like several breed champion heifers at OKC.  

     Kurt Bolay was the ag teacher at Perry.  Very good ag teacher, great work ethic and determined to help his students.  Good dude.  Cattle weren’t his thing but if I was fitting cattle, he made sure to help the Billings kids that were showing sheep or whatever.  On a side note, all four schools in the county had a public speaker in the top 5 of their division at State.  We all wanted to win, but we used each other to help.  It worked and I miss a lot about those days.  

     Mr. Bolay’s kids always showed some bad-ass pigeons.  His father-in-law was a pigeon jock.  These pigeons were good.  The Noble County Fair had lots of pens of pigeons.  Lots of poultry as well.  Anyways, Mr. Bolay, myself and Sydney Yost were yakking back and forth.  Sydney was talking smack about showing a “real” animal, like a steer.  At that point, Bolay and Sydney really got to jawing back and forth.  Bolay allowed how “his daughters just might have a steer to whip some ass next year.”  Sydney took it personal.  Better be careful. 

     The next spring the two of them were still talking.  Sydney’s daughter Ramee had a really good Tulsa steer that we had bought at Copus bid board sale.  (that is another story)  Bolay alluded that he might have a Tulsa steer as well.  Sydney was like “bring it.  We’ll whip your ass at the county fair”.  I was like “Dude, we ain’t taking that steer to the Noble County Fair!  Hell no!  (and we didn’t) 

     And then I threw gas on the fire.  I nominated a steer in the name of one of Kurt Bolay’s daughters.  I waited till after wheat harvest and I showed Sydney the nomination report.  OHHHH!!!! He was livid.  “WE is getting us some pigeons!”  Now, Sydney wasn’t much of a drinker.  However, he was easily influenced by the younger cool crowd.  One Saturday, Jay Paul Fagan and I might have goaded Sydney into getting REAL serious about this pigeon deal.  Sydney was committed but he didn’t know where to look for pigeons.  This was 1995–pre-internet.  I told him that there was a sale south of Stillwater that sold everything.  Mihura Country Store had an auction on Saturdays.  I think that they still have an auction.  Broken golf clubs, 8 track cassettes, Beagle puppies, dozen chicken eggs, hay and pigeons.  Here we go.  We make the 50 mile drive to go to the auction.  

     As luck would have it, there was a shit-load of pigeons being auctioned that day.  We got a bidder number and went to buying and buying and buying.  We bought trios for $2.50 like they were going out of style.  Ten+ sets of trios.  At that time, we weren’t drinking.  And then…..oh….and then they brought out the special consignment.  They unloaded a trio of pigeons out of the back of a station wagon.  The auctioneer could hardly contain his excitement as he read off that these birds had been the grand trio at the Texhoma Fair, the Arkansas/Oklahoma State Fair and every other show that they had been to.  I normally consider myself a good judge of stock, but to be honest, they looked the same as the rest of the pigeons to me. 

     The auctioneer went to chanting and we blew right by that $2.50 price, $5, $10.  There was a buzz in the crowd–much like a $20K wether goat being sold.  The bidding escalated.  Sydney had his free meshback seed company farmer’s cap cocked up and to one side.  Both arms were exposed from the shoulders down as his guns were not inhibited by sleeves on his pearl snap farming shirt complete with a pen and a notepad in his shirt pocket.  $15, $20–people we weren’t even bidding in nickle increments anymore.  $22.50 now $23.   It was now just a bid off between two bidders.  One caved….going once, twice…sold!  $27.50.   Yeah that’s it.  But, I am here to tell you that the crowd was buzzing.  There were dudes in overalls looking at us like we were crazy.  Was it a record?  IDK.  I just knew that we now had a whole bunch of birds to haul and we didn’t bring a trailer.  So then we bought the actual cage that held the trio of badass pigeons.  We had to.  None of us could tell those 3 birds from the other 30+ birds that we had already bought.  

     We headed back to Billings, hooked onto a stock trailer and went back to pickup our pigeon purchases.  100 mile round trip.  We also stopped at Atwoods to buy chicken wire in order to line the trailer AND close in a lean-to barn to serve as a pigeon coop.  Well, except for the HIGH dollar trio.  They got their own pen.  Ramee took over the upkeep of a bunch of pigeons.     

     Fast forward.  Ramee did have the grand trio of pigeons at the Noble County Fair.  I guess those birds were exceptional.  Bolay was SO pissed that we all went together to eat lunch that day at the Noble County Fair.  Sydney and Bolay argued as to who would buy.  Sydney exclaimed “Haa!! Winners buy!”  There is so much about those days that I miss.  Pigeons–you gotta be shittin me?!?!?

Ramee also went on to place 2nd in the State FFA Specialty Animal proficiency award with her pigeon project.  None of the Bolay girls ever had nor did they ever show a steer.  Oddly enough, Kela was a national Specialty Animal proficiency finalist with GOATS!!  Seriously, goats were a specialty animal.  


People, have a good one.  Find the fun in everything.  It’s all around us….if you look for it.  Have a good one and a better tomorrow.  

The Most Liked?

      My question for today–

Is Jason Spence the MOST liked person in the entire livestock industry, regardless of species.  My answer is a definite and resounding YES!   One only needs to look at book-face the past week to see all of the posts, pics and stories.  Pray for the family.

       Like most everyone that has crossed paths with Spence, I have spent the last week thinking of the different encounters that I had with the man.  I met him sometime about 2010 or 2011 at a goat auction.  From then on, we became friends.  Not best friends, just acquaintances that were friendly when we saw or talked to each other.  He was always quick to shake Duke’s hand and he enjoyed talking to Tammy.  

      I’m not going to tell any stories that all of you don’t already know.  The man was a true salesman.  His true business was real estate.  But he pried his way into selling all of the goat auctions.  And he worked with the breeders, the sellers, the showmen, the kids and he went to all of the shows and premium sales which helped him to work with all of the above as well.  He was a true cheer leader for the kids and the industry.  

        I, as well as you, loved how he opened every sale with a prayer.  And he always prayed for our military people.  He could cry an auction in four different languages.  English, Spanish, German and Swahili.  He could move so fluid from English to Spanish as he counted the $s.  Back and forth.  So good!  And all the while, he could throw in a sarcastic comment, that was always perfectly timed.  Like maybe something about a Lucky Charms t shirt that I was wearing and had quit bidding at $7K on a wether.  You all know what I mean. 

         After knowing him for a couple of years, when he found out that I had some German heritage, he began throwing in some German bids, always as he held that mic to his mouth looking you right in the eye, head cocked and that finger pointing.  After I knew that he could count in German, I asked “What other languages can you count bids?” 

       Swahili?!?!   What in the hell?   Why?   He used to sell an automobile auction in Germany.  There was a buyer from some African country that used Swahili as his native language.  So, Spence taught himself how to cry an auction in Swahili.  The buyer loved it!   Any of us that have encountered Spence can imagine a crowd of Europeans at a German car auction and he targets that buyer while transitioning his chant into Swahili.  

       The boots with the eyes looking up at you.  

        A palomino trout?  Never heard of it before listening to/reading about/watching his exploits.  

      Much the same as the rest of you, I have spent time looking back at old text messages from him.  My favorite–A pic from the cockpit while flying south, his hand holding a beverage, “Enjoying a cold Dos XX at 10,500 feet with a cool 51 degrees outside.  Cheers mi amigo!”

      Without a doubt, Jason Spence is the person that has made a positive impression on so many people throughout the livestock industry.  Definitely the most liked.  Legendary! 

Cheers!  Prost!  Salud!  I don’t have a clue what the word for cheers is in Swahili.  

Guns Up and Be Blessed!










     Although I am not athletic, my parents probably, maybe, should have a shrine somewhere in their attic that attests to my athletic conquests.  Like a 4th place wrestling trophy and a fishing derby championship.  I should be and maybe could have been athletic.  But I’m not.  I grew up in a town that was in the beginning stages of cultivating athletes and state championship teams.  Somehow, I went the other direction.  

       My middle brother went the athletic route.  He has items like an all-state jacket and a state championship ring.  He played baseball for numerous years at numerous levels and then married a collegiate basketball player.  Guess why his kids don’t show animals?  They play ball and play it at a high level.  It is apparent that I will be watching some Alva Lady Gold Bugs sports in the next few years.  And then will watch the nephew play some ball.  I’m fine with that.  

      The Dragon Lady was wicked athletic.  Right up until she hatched Duke.  Until then, she was fast.  6on6 basketball was her thing at Arnett high.  And they were really good.  REALLY good!  Tammy will watch high school ball anytime, anywhere.  I won’t drive 20 miles to watch a stock show.  

       I have a bad right eye.  There were some bad decisions and bad timing back in the late 80s.  And then things got worse.  Now, if you groove a pitch at me, I can still launch it.  I’ve written about throwing at a doe goat.  I still have my moments. 

      Like this evening.  I/we recently acquired several head of commercial hair sheep.   Like a 100 plus.  There are a few (like 25) lambs still nursing.  They are all here where the goats used to be. 

        Tonight, there was a lamb that had gone underneath a watergap into the mini-herf pasture.  I decided to catch it.  OH HELL!  I had it cornered but that did not mean that I had it caught.  Ten foot gateway and I made myself wide!   Arms outstretched and working side2side. 

        The Texans have told me that when you crowd these hair sheep, that you need loose fences because they will bounce head first, full speed.  If the fence is too tight, they will break their necks.  People, they ain’t lying.   

        I needed to catch about a 35# lamb.  I had him crowded but I was by myself.  It made a run head first into the fencing.  He bounced back.  I crowded him.  He then jumped into me headfirst–right into the sternum.  I didn’t catch him.  A 35# hair sheep can leave a divot in a sternum.  Damn!   A small hair sheep is like a missile.  He now lunged with all it’s power into the fence.  I caught him on the rebound.  He did not immediately quit the fight. 

Have a good one. 

Bit Scared

       Thursday evening found me getting home from the Connors State College judging contest.  The drive from Warner, OK back to Shattuck was not fun in those winds.  

        Since we didn’t have school on Friday, I didn’t have to be anywhere immediately that morning.  I got up and put out hay for cows and the newest venture.  I looked at stock and then headed in to take care of getting cleaned up for the day.  Tammy had left for work.  I was the only one in the house.

        I was sitting on the porcelain throne, looking at my phone while taking care of business.  The exhaust fan was running which makes the bathroom a quiet place for concentrating and thinking.  As I sat there, I heard something coming down the hallway.  Thoughts raced through my mind.  “Wait.  What the hell?  Who could that be?  That doesn’t sound like Tammy.  Dad would have yelled when he slid open the back door.  Who? What? ”  The sound was getting louder and there was dang sure something coming down the hallway towards the bathroom.  And here I was, stranded–mid-dump.  The sound was unfamiliar to my ears.  It almost sounded like—-Oh CRAP!!!!  Literally.  I now realized what it was.

        Duke had bought Tammy a Roomba for Christmas.  She had it set to make its rounds while none of us are home.  It was the damn robot vacuum rolling down the hallway.  I finished my business, took a shower and then headed to the bedroom.  Upon which I found the Roomba lodged underneath my dresser.  I pulled it out and set it in the hall and pressed the “clean” button.  Off it went.  

      I got dressed and walked back into the bathroom.  There was that dang robot sweeper stranded again.  I wasn’t supposed to be home and the doors to those rooms were supposed to be shut.  This was an abnormal day for me and it screwed up the robotic vacuum sweeper’s path.  Real first-world kind of problems.  

       Saturday will find us hosting a livestock judging contest at Woodward.  We have over 500 kids headed to the contest.  Lots of area people are bringing stock for us to sort.  The crew at the Woodward County Event Center have great prizes.  These contests have a lot of moving parts.  It was way easier to show up and judge than it is to host one.  It’s all good.  

And I hope you all have a good one and a better tomorrow.  



      For starters, thank you to all that asked questions, inquired, talked about, bid and/or bought on the final Kelln Livestock online sale.  Us–Tammy, Kela, Duke and myself–the Kelln Klan, along with the Milligan’s held the first ever online goat sale in 2006.  We have watched and participated as the stock show world’s purchasing habits changed and changed again.  The kids have moved on.  Tammy is glad to see the end.  And as for me, she knows me well and we both know that I am not done with show stock.  I just don’t want to raise them anymore.  As for online sales, we all now know that the bidding doesn’t start until it is in “extended” time.   We all know that a wicked picture sells.  We also have all been burnt a bit from not doing more homework.  As always, anybody that called me got the true and accurate description of each buck.  

      My goal for this sale was that all of the bucks got a bid.  Mentally, I was done.  There comes a time when a damn $ nor the pursuit of a banner doesn’t move the dial.  That’s it.  Time to move on to the next chapter.    These bucks never had an empty feeder or missed a haying. (obivously).  Their hooves were properly trimmed and they were wormed and vaccinated in a timely fashion.  A couple of them got to see Live Action.  The others played cornhole with each other.  I didn’t spend as much time prepping for pics and it showed.  Yet, we let the videos tell the stories.  Nothing to hide.  These animals were not pets nor are they show ponies.  They were raised to be bucks and that they are.  Now, it’s up to their new owners to properly mate them to the right kind of doe. 

        To the new owners of lots 1 & 2.  Those goats are bad ass!!!  I’ve been more miles than most and that pair is wicked good.  Yes, some of the others are good but not as good as those two.

        As for me in the goat world or this blog—not done–yet.  But there is a transition coming.  Krimeny!  The blog was supposed to die a year ago. 


     In all honesty, my most hated blog post is blasting the Tulsa wether judge a year or so ago.  There are parts of me that wish that I hadn’t written any of it.  Yet, I had to write it as it was such a blatant and redundant crime against livestock evaluation.   And as a result, that same damn post is one of my favorites.  I hope that crooked POS never judges a show of any kind again.  Most never get a chance to judge a big show.  He was given two shots and he shoved his own thumb up his own rear twice.  If I had to bet, he will get another chance.  Thus, the story of the stock show world. 

       Whew!  I probably ought to delete the previous paragraph.  But I won’t.  F all of you that enable the crooked shenanigans.  Defiance to the wrong till the end!  I’m right.  I know it.  And so do you.  

I have no fear.  I am no longer a breeder, a show parent, a helper–I am just an ag teacher.  I have a lot of knowledge of how this game is played and how it is supposed to be played.  I am near to the pulse of this game.  And I have no fear.  Let’s play this game. 

Thank you.  Seriously.