Never Again- Part II

Eva sat beside her cousin's bed at the hospital. A nurse came in to check on Janelle and eyed her curiously. "You should see the other guy," Eve told her, when she saw her staring at the now black and purple bruise on her cheek. She wasn't smiling. Janelle had been in a coma for a week and the doctor's didn't know if she'd come out of it or not. She spent every moment she could at the hospital after work.

Ed made bail, but he was not allowed to go near Janelle or he would be revoked. He was charged with attempted murder of Janelle and assault and battery on Eva. The district attorney was waiting to see if Janelle pulled through. If not; the charges would be upgraded. Ed had also been put on administrative leave from his job due to the incident. The two conditions made Eva wary of going home as Ed just sat glaring at her through his living room window and drinking himself into a stupor. He made a gun-shooting gesture at her once and the deadly serious look in his eye made her shiver and run for her house. He had just smiled an evil, self-satisfied smile. Eva was told by the deputy that he couldn't do anything about Ed since he hadn't pointed an actual gun at her.

Eva often wished Ed would go on and move since he only rented his house. She was buying hers and it would be more difficult for her to move. It was just a small and modest home, but it was all hers and she'd be damned if he was going to run her out of it, the miserable, drunken son-of-a-bitch.

Janelle stirred and it made Eva jump. She had nodded off holding onto her cousin's still, cool hand as she hadn't gotten much sleep lately. "Janelle? Can you hear me, honey? It's Eva," she said. She pressed the call button on the bedrail that went to the nurses' station.

"Is there a problem?" a nurse asked a few minutes later answering the call.

"I think she's waking up," Eva called out. "She's moving around a lot all of the sudden."

"I'll be right there," was the reply.

A minute later the nurse came in followed by an intern who checked Janelle's eyes with a small pen light as the nurse checked her vital signs. He nodded at the nurse.

"Well, is she waking up?" Eva finally asked.

"Yes, she is trying to come out of it," the intern answered. "We'll have to wait a bit longer for her to become fully awake before we can check for any brain damage. She may have some rehab to go through; learn to do things over again."

"What things?"

"I don't know. It depends on how much damage was done. She might be just fine or she might have to learn just a few things. She also might have to learn to talk and walk and use her motor skills all over."

"Oh, God," Eva said. "I should have used the cast iron."

"Excuse me?" the doctor said.

"I stopped her husband with an aluminum skillet; I should have used the cast iron one," she replied.

The doctor raised an eye brow. "How did he turn out?"

"I guess he's fine." She indicated the bruise on her face and her cousin lying in the bed. "I'm not giving him the chance to do this again. I hope they put him away for years," she added with a shake of her head. She wiped away a tear.

The doctor cleared his throat and nodded. "You should go home and get some rest yourself. You look tired. We'll call if there are any more changes."

Morning on the Farm-What a Way to Start the Day

It's a great way to start the day. You go out to the barn and something just seems--wrong. It took a minute to figure it out. Someone was missing- Black Jack the steer. Suddenly there he was, on the wrong side of the barn in the feed aisle. Oh man! He had somehow managed to unhook the clip holding his neck chain. They seem to be rather talented in that area of late.

First one must catch the naughty fellow, and believe me, he is not all that small- about 300 pounds. He also has decided he just isn't ready to go back to his stall quite yet, so he ran up and down the aisle with me calling after him. The aisle isn't that big and it's not worth chasing a cow around the feed aisle, you just have to wait for him to calm down a second, although every time I walked up to him to put the rope on his head, he took off again. Hmmm. He's being extra naughty today. Usually I can get him the first time, but then, he has made quite a mess of things and he may be under the impression I'm going to get onto him somehow. It's a cow; it doesn't do any good, as I have told my husband repeatedly. Finally, I got the rope the on his head and he decided at that point to just drag me down the aisle, only I jerked the rope to one side as one would a rein on a horse and he stopped in his tracks. "Now, if you're quite ready to go back home," I told him, "I can clean up this mess and feed everyone." I also told the other cows to give him a hard time since it was his fault they wouldn't be fed for a while as I had to clean up the feed aisle. Yes, I know it doesn't do any good to say such things to them, but it made me feel better.

He still wasn't ready to go back home but I got him out of the feed aisle and into the center walkway, so I tied the rope off in his stall (which thankfully is literally across from the short walk aisle between stalls on the side where he had taken refuge.) I got behind him and gave him a little smack on the rear to get him motivated. He tried to turn and run down the walk aisle but when he reached the end of the rope, he flipped completely over. I just smiled and chuckled a bit. "So, are we ready now?" He got up and went to his stall. I had to motivate him to go on and cross the gutter and move forward enough to hook him back up, but he went.

My goodness, what a mess he made! He managed to knock down five of six bales of hay we had thrown out of the hay mow the night before and pulled the hay string off of two of them, scattering one all over the place. The hay that had not been eaten was no longer fit to eat as he had hygiene issues (that's safe wording right?) in the hay so I had to spend twenty minutes just cleaning the hay out of the aisle and making sure I could actually give the cows their grain before haying them again. At least the concrete was not in need of disinfecting since it all managed to land in hay piles. (That was good trick too.)

Since we have a doorway (minus an actual door) leading to the silo room (we aren't using them) we blocked it off with a piece of plywood and some old straw bales to insulate the barn against the cold. It is at the end of that walk aisle between stalls I mentioned earlier. The water lines and bowls tend to freeze there if it isn't blocked off in the wintertime. That rascal pushed on those bales until he broke the cords holding the plywood up and knocked it over. The bales actually stayed in place, thank goodness. After the mess was cleaned up and the rest of the chores were done, I went outside and around to the other side of the doorway and put the plywood back up, only this time I nailed it to the framework and them braced it with some long two-by-four lumber. Let's see him knock it over now!

Have you ever had days like that?

A few Ideas for This Holiday Season to Keep it Local

It's the time of year when people give gifts. I have noticed a lot of people just go and pick something off a shelf without much thought to what they really are getting for someone and then there are those who put a lot of effort and forethought into their gift giving. If you are one of those people who put effort into your choices, this is for you.

There is a lot of emphases on keeping it local this year, and it should actually be all year. But here are some ideas that will help you keep it local. We know about going to local stores run by local people rather than hitting the big-box department store franchises with all their made-somewhere-other-than-here merchandise,  but have you thought about the actually made 'here' as in in your neighborhood? Believe it or not, there are still farmer's markets running in some areas. They may not be held out of doors since it is wintertime, but there are those who move to an indoors location, at least through the holiday season. They are not selling fresh produce, but rather jams and jellies, pickles, relishes, home-canned vegetables, things made with the produce that didn't sell, homemade soaps, lotions, cosmetics, greeting cards that are beautifully done either by hand or on their computers, embroidery work or other needle work, quilts. These people spend their 'down time' in the winter months making what is now considered cottage industry products. They are beautiful and very thoughtful as gifts.

I have gone to church bizarres and craft shows held at malls or in the park (in warmer months) and school gymnasiums. They too have home crafted items such as knitted blankets, needle point and woven rugs, crocheted items, handcrafted baby clothes and blankets, embroidered table linens and bed linens, altered sweatshirts and tee shirts (some of them are whimsical and very cute), scarves or sweaters, mittens, and hats, handmade jewelry made from locally found materials (a rock tumbler and small drill can give material for truly beautiful and unique jewelry). They have artwork and of course the greeting cards for all occasions, dried flower arrangements, wreaths, pottery, handmade decorations, stuffed toys made at home so you won't find any two actually alike, hand carved wooden toys and sculptures. Someone might be parting with  antiques handed down through the family such as vases and bowls, or jewelry boxes. There is a workshop that makes unique boxes in our area and they sell in their tiny shop at their home and other local venues. Imagine giving someone a special handmade keepsake box. How about a landscape painting or slice-of-life scene all framed and ready to go? Maybe an artist took just the perfect photograph and framed it that someone would really appreciate. I saw some photographs just the other day at a local art museum/coffee shop where all the items were for sale. Man, were those nice photographs- I wish I could find that perspective with my camera.

This isn't to say that they will be inexpensive, although they are probably are very good quality; better than that cookie-cutter made-in-China stuff you find at Wal-Mart. You will find find bargains if you look, but isn't it about the thought and not the price? If you're a crafty person, do it yourself, just remember to get your craft goods from a local store or supplier!

Happy holidays and good shopping!

Think Before You Speak

I know people get nervous when they are being interviewed, but really, the other day a Dallas Cowboys fan was asked how they felt about the tragedy regarding the death of Jerry Brown due to one of his teammates driving drunk. Her comment was that she hoped "everything would turn out okay." What? Everything turn out okay? How can that happen? Jerry Brown who was only 25 years old and going to be a new dad very soon is dead and the last time I checked the only one who could change that hasn't come back yet. Did she think it would be "okay" for Josh Brent to get away with killing another human being after getting behind the wheel drunk. This isn't the first time he has done so either. He was just off probation last year for another OWI arrest and he was driving without a valid license.

Here are some questions I have in this matter: What makes these people think they are above the law? That they can drive under the influence of anything and skate by? Much less kill someone while doing it? Why would anyone want them to? How can an organization such as the Dallas Cowboys stand behind someone who does this and has been convicted of doing so before (driving while intoxicated). Is that the example they want to set for the youth of today for acceptable behavior? Is it any wonder that people think it is okay to drive drunk, take a chance of killing someone, maybe you or me or one of our children or grandchildren? I have seen multiple DWI, DUI, (whatever they want to call it) arrests and people are still getting away with it.They are using poor judgement, to say the least, and depraved indifference for public safety when they take a chance they won't be caught or get into an accident.

People need to think before they put someone, sports figures or celebrities, on a pedestal and give them a pat on the head and tell them everything will be "okay" when they act in a dangerous fashion. It's not okay with me, and it shouldn't be with you either.

Community Theater Excellent Opportunty for Children

With the economy pretty much in the tank schools are making extreme cutbacks and of course the first things to be cut are the arts. It's been well known for years. I have noticed that people are passionate about keeping sports in schools, but not as loud when it comes to art, music, and drama. Why is that? If you think about it, you have to acknowledge that not everyone is cut out to be on the team for whatever sport the school has and I do know that schools are also cutting sports or are consolidating with other districts in order to continue participating. I understand the team work concept that sports teach, and that some kids get scholarships from playing sports, but not all kids who participate in sports get a scholarship. Just like not all kids who participate in the arts get a scholarship. One can argue however, that the arts can appeal to more students, and one doesn't often get injured participating in music, except for the occasional dance injury, or art (which can lead to many careers such as architecture, graphic design, web design, etc.). Does anyone think about how drama (theater) helps students? Try acting if you can't read and read well. Theater helps with confidence, overcoming shyness (as it did me), learning to multitask, which is important in most jobs, keeping grades up if their parents (and the schools) make it a part of participation, staying active (learning dance steps and when to do them). I had two left feet and I learned to dance because of community theater.

I was recently contacted by a new company out of Chicago called Compass Creative Dramatics because of an article I had written years ago regarding community theater. They are trying to raise awareness of the importance of community theater for children and plan to take small productions to several cities throughout the Midwest. They have testimonials on their website and videos on their YouTube page of people telling their memories of being involved in community theater. I, too, gave them some material. They are trying to raise money to get the project started and what a worthy project it is! Check out their website http://www.ccdramatics.com/index.html and their YouTube page
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DeMxvqipOto .  Hey, if you have something to add to their testimonials, go ahead; I'm sure they would appreciate it.

I have to wonder if more people in other areas endeavored to undertake such projects the void left by the schools would be filled and children would find something to do who might otherwise just sit around the house vegetating, or get into trouble 'just hanging out'. There isn't always a Boys and Girls Club (or such other club) available for them; I know there isn't where I live, but there is a small community theater. Get involved, won't you?

Green Acres is the Place for Me!

Okay, so this time of year, we don't necessarily have green acres, but do you remember the television show Green Acres? I do, and I can still get it when the weather cooperates. Growing up I lived on a farm pretty close to that one, sans the closet door emergency exit. We were only there for a little while, but I thought all farms were that way at the time, even though my grandparents lived on a farm with a nice house. I always liked the barn my grandparents had, even though the boards didn't quite meet and if the wind blew it went right through it. I think it was supposed to be that way since my grandparents raised tobacco and they dried it in there- this was before the fancy drying buildings with the heaters and blowers on them.

We moved into yet another farm house when I was a teenager. It was huge, but the bathroom was an add-on and it wasn't level so the bathtub didn't drain properly. It didn't have a barn, but it was a crop farm and they raised watermelons the year we moved out. I loved walking the fields to the fishing pond.That was cool. The house was oddly laid out too. If one wanted to go into the kitchen or the dining room, they had to go through a porch that had been enclosed. We found snakes in there once in a while. Come to think of it, we did at the other one too. Yuk. 

My husband and I moved onto a rented farm shortly after we married and it had a nice house- one of my favorite houses where I have ever lived. It had small outbuildings but it had a lot of acreage and we raised beef cattle and raised wheat, soybeans, and truck cropped vegetables that we sold at the State Farmers Market in Thomasville, Georgia. I enjoyed that too. We had live water on the property, which means a spring-fed creek to cool off in on really hot days. That was nice.

I have lived on several farms over the years and my husband has yet to put me in one that is Green Acres-like. We did live in his old homestead in Missouri where he grew up that was interesting. It was built on a log foundation with rocks around the edges. A groundhog had gotten in where the rocks had been removed to retrofit plumbing for the bathroom (yes, it was that old). The rascal had gnawed his way almost all the way across the floor joists. He was huge! My son and I watched him through the living room window eating flowers and acorns in the front yard. There was squirrel that used to hang out on the front porch and look in the door through the baby gate and my other son. I think he tried to talk to it, but since no one knows what babies are saying, who knows? We moved into a newer house a couple years later and it was eventually torn down. We had cows and hogs then.

In Wisconsin we lived in a huge house with six bedrooms and a hidden toilet at the top of the stairs. That was interesting! Careful going up those stairs man! It was an old house and we couldn't quite figure out what rooms were supposed to be what in the lower level. The bathroom was built into an alcove under the stairs so it was small and it had a pocket door for an entrance. I still really liked the house, even if it was too big and the bathroom too small. Now we live on another farm with a big old barn - I love big barns. The house actually needs more rooms just to accommodate grandchildren. But, oh man, do I have fun with the cows. They are a bunch of characters. My husband thinks I spend too much time with them since most have names and I can pet them like dogs. But then I have fun on my little tractor too, and wandering the nearly 120 acres with my Labrador retriever. And, I have creeks all over the place- the dog really likes those. Too bad it snows and has to ruin everything.

I have been  in cities and to tell you the truth, I can't sleep there. I can't breathe there. It is way too loud and the houses are too close for my comfort. So, yes, the line in the Green Acres theme song holds true with me, and the only time I'd wager anything is to say that it probably does with a lot of farmers too. "Green acres is the place for me," and especially, 'Take Manhattan; just give me that country side!"

Never Again- Part I

The colored strobe lights flashed red and blue into the night sky. An ambulance pulled away with her cousin's husband Ed and a rubber-gloved attendant bandaging his head and checking his eyes with a flashlight for signs of a worsening concussion. The ambulance with her cousin Janelle had already gone. She was unconscious and her ears had blood dribbling out of them. Eva watched t through the living room window as they pulled away and tried not to cry even as she held a bag of frozen peas to her own face.

Eva sat on the sofa, adjusted the peas on her swollen cheek so she could talk and tried to answer the sheriff's deputy's questions. "I told you I was just trying to stop him. If I'd wanted him dead I wouldn't have used that cheap aluminum skillet; I would have used that cast iron one." She stared at him. "He was going to beat her to death. When I yelled for him to stop and grabbed his arm, he back-handed me so hard I hit the floor."

"What started this?" the deputy asked.

"We share a ride to work since I live just across the street. The cheap bastard won't even let her have a car," she interjected. "Anyway, he was drinking, as usual, when we got home. We were barely out of the car when he came storming across the street yelling and carrying on about her signing up for direct deposit. He pulled her arm and started dragging her to the house telling her he'd teach her to fool with the check. I knew there was trouble so I followed them. He's hit her several times before, you see," she said.

The deputy clicked his radio and asked if there were any complaints on file. The reply was negative. "Well, there don't appear to be any complaints on him."

"There wouldn't be. If she did, he'd just give her another beating and she knew it."

"What did he hit her with?"

"A wooden TV tray," Eva answered. "That pile of kindling used to be part of a set."

"How many times did he hit her with it?" he asked, scanning the pile of rubble.

"Only once," Eva answered. "That was because he knocked me down when I grabbed his arm. He picked up that table and popped her in the head and was going for a second blow when I popped him with the skillet." She swung her arms with the bag of peas in one hand demonstrating.

The deputy squeezed his eyes shut trying not to laugh at her. "Are you going to be all right?" he asked at last.

She shook her head. "Can I go home now?"

"I suppose; I don't think I need anything else. Stay in the area for a few days until the D.A. sorts this out. He may want to call you if he has any questions."

"I'll be home or at work," she said as she stood to leave. "Wish I could say nice to have met you."

"I understand," he said. He handed her a business card. "I'll need you to come by and sign a report tomorrow at the sheriff's department."

"Okay." She wobbled a little on her feet and the deputy motioned for another officer to walk her home.

"Is there anyone I can call to stay with you tonight?" the deputy asked her. "You might have a concussion yourself where you hit that floor."

"I'll call a neighbor. I'll be fine," she replied.

A Thank You to Our Veterans

Sunday, November 11, 2012, is Veteran's Day. Have you thanked a veteran for their sacrifice to protect our country and our rights against foreign countries who might want to destroy our way of life? They give up time with their families they can never make up. They give up their innocence when they go into battle and see atrocities they might never have seen otherwise that leaves many of them with PTSD issues, depression, drug and/or alcohol issues, or all of them.  Many are not able to cope with these issues or don't know where to go for help. They lose their families due to the issues they suffer from because of what they have witnessed. How many former soldiers have come home just to die later from exposure to chemicals in the air where they fought? Too many. How many are jumpy all the time? I can think of a few that I wouldn't want to walk up on without warning them I was coming.  How many have come back missing limbs or paralyzed and wondering how they would now support themselves and their families, how they will get along in society? How many have suffered from indignation upon arriving home from the Middle East or, in the past, Vietnam? How many times have our reservist soldiers gone into disaster zones within our own borders to keep the peace so that you don't have to worry about violence from those who would loot or destroy what you have left after a flood or fires?

We need to thank our veterans for their service to our nation. So- Thank you veterans and current members of the military. God bless you.

Sudden Death on the Back Nine-Part IV

Troy dialed the local police precinct and asked for a detective. He gave his statement about what had happened to him and that he did indeed have a witness, the man who dug him up and saved his life. The detective assured Troy he would send a car right over. Troy told him he was headed over there himself just so he could confront them on the affair and what they had done. After assuring them he had no weapon and promising not to hurt anyone he told him he’d leave the front door open for him.

A few minutes later Troy stepped out of the shadows of his yard. He saw the unmarked car with its strobe light flashing followed by a patrol car heading in his direction. He retrieved his own hidden house key and silently slipped inside. His hands flexed into fists as he heard the sounds of lovemaking coming from his bedroom. He took several deep breaths and forced himself to calm down.

“What the hell?” Polly said, as the light switched on shining brightly on them as they were caught in the act. She quickly pulled the sheet over herself as Archie rolled over. “Troy?”

“It took me a while, but I figured it out. The next time you try to kill someone, make sure they are dead before you bury them. You’re such an idiot,” he added. “I can’t believe I ever loved you.”

The shock worn off, Archie jumped up quickly pulling on his trousers. “How did you get out of that grave? She even packed it down like I told her to.”

Troy closed his eyes a moment. He had heard the detective come up behind him and Archie had just admitted to planning the attempted murder in front of him. He smiled ironically and shook his head. “You should make sure you aren't being watched when you bury someone,” was all he said. He turned and walked out of the room. He shook hands with the detective and motioned him inside as Archie and Polly sat speechless. He stepped back inside. “Just tell me this, Polly, when were you going to report me missing?”

She stared at him blankly and never gave him an answer. She caught the robe Troy threw her.

“You probably don’t want to go out of here wearing nothing but cuffs.” 

Questioning the Electoral College

As the presidential election of 2012 is rolling around, I think it is time for a little lesson in voting. Did you know that even though one votes for a candidate, all the votes are tallied, and someone has received the most votes, they may not actually win the election? That's right. That vote can be overturned in a sense by the Electoral College.

The Electoral College has been around since our country's first election. The framers of the Constitution for some reason decided that election of a president by popular vote was not good enough and so created an electoral college to do it for us supposedly based on the popular vote. Seems like an un-necessary extra step to me. Members are based on various factors: number of senators in each state (2), and the number equal to how many representatives there are for each state which is based on population and will vary as the population does (Census figures), and three for Washington, D.C. These electors are usually voted in by popular vote. Supposedly, the electors vote according to who their individual states have popularly voted for the president, only actually they do not legally have to do that at all. It has happened four times in our history, as recently as 2000 when Al Gore, who won the popular vote, lost the electoral vote and therefore was not put into office. Regardless of how anyone feels about who won or lost the election that should not be legal. If someone won the popular vote that is who should win the election.

In this day and age when business people and politicians are often bought and paid for in various ways, otherwise there wouldn't be any lobbyists out there; it would be way too easy for someone to buy an electoral vote. I'm not saying that has happened, but it potentially could. Some states have sanctions for not voting with the popular vote- a fine and not being able to be an electorate again. Big deal! Anyone could pay the fine for them and if they truly are just trying to rig the election, then they don't care if they are not voting in the next one. At least Michigan negates the vote of the person not voting according to their state's wishes; others just give a slap on the wrist, so consequences vary wildly all the way to only being replaced.

When I checked the National Achieves (http://www.archives.gov/federal-register/electoral-college/electors.html) it listed how many representatives there were for each state and how many states had no laws or pledges regarding the electors voting with their state's popular vote - that means no penalties. There were 24 of them. That's 24 states' electorates potentially voting against the popular vote – almost half!

I don't see how we would have the right to point fingers at other countries' elections if we can't guarantee we would have an absolutely fair election. This is from a Constitution-believing, proud patriot: The Electoral College must go if we can't find a way to guarantee they will vote with the people they represent. I understand the College is supposed to make lesser populated states just as heard as the larger ones, but unless we want another play out of the 2000 presidential election, changes need to occur. Maybe jail time should be part of the deal for not voting as they are supposed to and it should be counted as election fraud. I am not a politician and I do not have all the answers, but together, as a country, the way the founding fathers did, we should figure out a solution.

On the Farm-Raising Sheep

I got talked into obtaining a few long-horned sheep about eighteen months ago by someone with sheep who was buying hay from us. I wouldn't have to have them shorn since they didn't have wool since they were hair sheep and the hair is more or less usless. They were supposed to go either for meat or the rams for their horns once they started having offspring. The entire 'herd' was a ram and five ewes. Oh my, what an undertaking that was. The ewes were raised on the bottle as their mothers had rejected them so they were very tame. Being tame, I named them and made pets out of them. That is always a bad idea, but somehow I always manage to do it regardless of the animal, be it a cow, a pig, or a sheep.

Raising sheep is an adventure, make no mistake. One weekend, since my husband was ill, my eldest son decided to come help mom get caught up on things that needed done around the farm. One such chore, was catching the sheep, which by this time had multiplied due to the ewes having had babies in February. We needed to tag the lambs. You talk about a rodeo. The adults were already tagged and I wondered why the previous owners had waited until they were loading them to do it. They seemed to handle so well when they got them for us and we had only some trouble getting them into the barn when they lambed- they follow a feed bucket pretty well. The lambs, however, run like the wild little critters they are. I had built a divider fence out of fence wire and, with my husband's help, finally lumber in order to separate the lambs from the ewes (they kept going through the wire). That's when I noticed the difference in the ewes and the rest of them.

The ram is also wild as we were told not to make friends with him or he could get where he wasn't afraid of us and charge. I took that to heart- he has some nasty looking horns and I have seen him charge my poor dog when I was trying to find his water bucket. After about an hour of trying to catch the lambs to tag them my son was swearing a blue streak and, as he is much too old for me to wash his mouth out with soap, I couldn't very well stop him. He looked at me and then I surprised the heck out of him. I was just as hot (it was nearly 100 degrees) and ticked off as he was at their speed and agility, and one even jumped straight up four feet over the fence back to mama. I told him to go ahead, just make sure he put in a few words for me since I didn't use them myself. He broke up laughing and we gave up the project least we both have a heat stroke.

That was about the time I started finding the little ones had gotten into a deadly plant I thought I had been pretty good about keeping out of their pen. My youngest son told me over the phone right where to find it and he was right. The little jumpers had gotten over a barricade and then knocked it over allowing access to all. It was around the silos.  I lost three of the little ones- all rams. Darn!

A few months after that I listed the whole lot for sale on Craig's List. At first no one wanted them, and then a couple people only wanted the female stock. I listed the two rams I had left, the dad and one of the lambs with a nice set of horns himself. .

By law, they have to be tagged before they can be sold and the tags are farm specific. Only ones born to the farm have to be tagged with that farm's tags so that they can be traced to their original farm. The people who bought the sheep were pretty good at catching them, although we did manage to get them led into a corral of sorts first and I just handed them the tags and asked if they had a tagging device. They can tag the little suckers.

I think I'll stick to cows and maybe a pig or two, but the pigs will be for me to eat, and some chickens (for eggs).

Sudden Death on the Back Nine -Part III

Troy watched his home from the inside a neighboring home where the inhabitants were on an extended vacation. They had asked him to keep an eye on the place and he could feed their exotic fish, so he knew where the key was hidden. He decided he would just stay there and not get a hotel room so if she filed a missing persons report they wouldn’t find him, at least not yet.

Gerald took Troy to the house and he had waited for Polly to leave before entering. He went into the house to his study where he opened the safe and withdrew several hundred dollars in cash and then raided the pantry and refrigerator. He laughed knowing she would be perplexed by the raid. He took several changes of his casual clothes in a duffel bag and went back across the street and waited.

As Troy watched clandestinely from behind the curtains of the window facing his home he saw Polly pull up and into the garage. She lugged heavy shopping bags into the house just as if nothing had happened. About an hour later Archie pulled into the drive and got out. He took her hand as if consoling her and patted her arm. Troy wished he had a directional microphone to hear them. They went into the house and a few minutes later the police showed up. He smiled to himself. “She must have found the missing items.” He wondered out loud if she would report everything missing or if she had even checked the safe. Would she tell them he was missing?

A half hour later the officers came outside still writing in their notebooks. One of them pointed to the house where he was and Troy ducked back just enough that he could still see what was going on without being seen himself. She was shaking her head and he thought it looked like she said the word ‘vacation’. Safe, he thought, at least for now. They walked door to door to the neighboring houses questioning the inhabitants and scribbling in their notebooks. At last they left and Troy breathed a sigh of relief. She had said ‘vacation.’

As darkness fell Troy wondered why Archie was still there. Around ten he left but he looked a bit disheveled. Troy narrowed his eyes as he recalled what Gerald had told him about the phone call Polly made after she buried him. Could it be that she was talking to Archie? Hmmm. Suspicion gnawed at him for hours. His friend Archie and Polly? No way; Archie didn’t even like Polly.

Troy watched the news and knew there was mention of a break-in at his house but no mention of his being missing or his belongings or the money; just some food, which they thought odd.  He snickered, either she didn’t notice or she wouldn’t report it. He started watching carefully when she left and when she came home. She was gone all night twice and he paced the floor. He knew if he took his neighbor’s vehicle, word would get around so he couldn’t follow her and he couldn’t take his own because if she came home and it was gone she would report it stolen.

Two days later Archie pulled into the drive. Several hours later he saw the lights go off in the house and Archie didn’t leave. Troy knew he had been right. Archie’s dislike of his wife was all for show. He sat down hard on the sofa and cried. It was bad enough what Polly had done, but now it looked as if his best friend was also involved and more than just with a murder plot. He thought for a while longer and then made a decision.