Here I sit at my desk, in front of this computer screen on this dry, windy evening (not unlike many others that we have seen here the past five years). I don’t care for the weather–90 degrees 48 hours ago, snow yesterday, below freezing last night, no rain, lots of wind.) But I do like sitting here, looking at auction results and jammin out to some killer good tunes. Got a little bit of Tina Turner playing right now. Simply the Best.
Last night, after burning horns, I took some Red Solo Cups and covered up 7 or 8 tater plants that had sprouted. I don’t have the Heart to waste the orange ones. I also didn’t want the mid-April freeze to get our new garden. The Dragon Lady and Duke planted these spuds on St. Patrick’s Day. Somebody told me that taters needed planted on St. Paddy’s Day. Like a George Strait song, it sounded good to me. I left way early on March 17th, so they planted them. As noted before, I’ve got a good shot of Irish from my mom’s side. Of course, I’ve got a doubled up dose of German–Kelln x Schneider. Just like reading livestock, you need to understand the genetics and backgrounds of the people that you deal with. Either way, German and/or Irish, I like a really good spud. I haven’t done much gardening since the 80s and I didn’t want to do it back then, but so far, I’ve realized that gardening now involves iTunes and a beer. Heck, I’m all in if a sport involves Ozzy and Bud. I’m pretty sure that it isn’t so much a sport, but more of an activity. Back in the 80s, gardening was a punishment. I hate(D) okra, maters, squash and zucchini. I still won’t touch the stuff–fresh, cooked, canned or pickled or put in bread…RUSM?…zucchini bread…it doesn’t even sound right. But we will have carrots and some Red Hot Chili Peppers, in the garden and on the iPod. That and Quiet Riot is playing now–straight out of the 80s.
These online auctions so far this year are way high. Kind of like Cheech & Chong. Smoked. And it sounds like the live auctions up north have also been really good. I even heard several testimonials of goats in kansass bringing a pile of cash. Like Aretha, they just want a little bit of R-E-S-P-E-C-T. When the Kansans are spending cash, then things are getting high. Of course, I am all in on goats selling high. The only goat sale so far in 2014 that wasn’t worth 2 squirts of duck crap was the OYE doe sale. Hhmm?!?! Seems to me that if you actually want to sell them, then they are worth something. I guarantee you that here in Paradise City (zip code 73840), that goats are worth a little something and will be for sale as long as they bring a little something. I don’t want no Cheap Trick. But if you have one, then call me at 867-5309.
Tomorrow, in this industry, there is a chance to make a dollar, but like the Gambler, there is a also a chance to lose two. You just need to know when to hold ’em and know when to fold ’em. Like Don Williams sang, “LORD, I hope this day is good.” And if things go properly, I will be listening to that good ol Irish rock band known as the Dropkick Murphy’s and they will have the bagpipes fired up along with the big amped guitars playin’ “Amazing Grace”. But for now Poison is rocking the speakers and if that no-talent (but still had hit songs) band can make it, then I still have a chance. I like it.
From the Jammin German, I bid you a lucky tonight and an even better tomorrow.