Saturday, April 11, 2015

There is not really much to say here:

About in the middle of setting up today’s post, Renter came over wanting to know what was up with the pasture and what not. I had to explain his wife had pretty well let me know he wasn’t interested in things as they had been agreed upon.

He disclaimed any knowledge of what I told him, and as far as he was concerned the deal was suppose to have been carried out. He then added that his wife was somewhat aggressive and was assertive, and he’d talk to her. That’s two weeks into the season and we both figure on a somewhat dry year and will stick with few calves on the place.

Now I have to hustle to set the trough’s and pumps up, which I stopped worrying about two weeks ago.

GAWD (Great Assed White Dog) died Easter Morning. He was fifteen years old. He will be replaced by another big white puppy, I’m told. Ruby, Renters mom, says she has been losing chickens, ducks and geese to the coyotes. GAWD kept the critters safe and she feels good having the dog around.

I had coyotes around my place almost continually since GAWD got old and the feral cats have been disappearing – my dog is a bit small to turn loose, he’d make a good snack for a coyote.


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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