Sunday, June 24, 2012

American Pie

As a kid I played this to an extremely hot, greasy-spoon restaurant full of rough necks and cattle ranchers from a juke box over and over again.

After the third time it played, my grandad stood up walked over and unplugged the juke-box.

Whatever it was that happened with me, it happened young.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Beware of falling knives

Sabbath morn, June 16, 2012.

I once heard a stock trader compare buying stocks in a downturn to catching falling knives.

That same analogy seems to apply to real world endeavors. In a climate where the average American has lost 40% of personal wealth, it matters not the arena in which you work; it’s hard, near impossible, to turn a profit on your labor or your trades.

In such times it’s all too easy to look for scapegoats rather than admit the whole damn system is sick and dying before our eyes: it’s the Mexicans, the dope dealers, the labor unions, the oil well drillers, the stock traders, the mail man, Monsanto, Wal-Mart, Middle-eastern terrorists, fat white boys, gays, the banks…

Yes, it’s all of the above and more.

Trying times, these.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Horse poor

Sabbath morn, June 9, 2012

By my watch it’s 4:30 AM Central Standard Time. I can’t sleep. Course I could console myself with the fact the rest of those in my region think it’s 5:30, a more respectable time to be up.

Teah, a Guernsey/Jersey cross milk cow has been sick and I am worried for her. The heat has been oppressive of late and I think she may have had a cow’s version of heat stroke. While high temperatures have not been near as bad as last year’s, humidity adds to the heat index and our low temperatures aren’t low at all. I am told we’ve experienced the hottest spring recorded.

I’ve got horses on the brain. First, we acquired a magnificent thoroughbred stallion that goes by the name Gaff for a lot less money than you'd think he'd be worth. Then, thinking it would be nice to have a quality mare to breed to him, (as if the dozen or so already in my pasture aren’t), I claimed a race filly. And another. And another. All of my money is not yet gone, so I may not be done.

Obsessive-compulsive disorder comes to mind.

I couldn’t give a shit less about gambling, but God I love watching a fit race horse.

My broodmare band suffered terribly over the last couple of years, a result of my own neglect. We’ve made a concerted effort to do right by them this year and it’s once again nice to gaze at our pastures adorned by slick, shiny mares and happy foals.

The local term for the ailment is horse poor.

Somehow, I don’t feel poor with a horse like this hanging around. (Sorry to brag.)

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Summer grind

The summer grind is on, hence my absence on the net.

Suffice it to say it's hot and we're very busy on the farm.

Dmiti Orlov has penned something worth your time.

I agree.