Thanksgiving time is here again and all of us have a lot to be thankful for.
Most of us do not have a clue what it would be like to live in a country where they have no freedom. Those people claiming they would like to live in a socialist country ought to move to one of them. I challenge you to encourage your family to do something nice for someone or some family that is having a harder time this Thanksgiving.
Some people have no family and some have lost a family member this year, making it difficult. Some may be disgusted with the elections we just had and although they are not perfect at least we have a process and an opportunity to vent our frustration.
Some in our area received some moisture in the past two weeks with some farmers east and also south of us having some wheat that could at least handle some lightweight cattle on it. One farmer told me this morning that most of the wheat he planted was over at the neighbors what with the winds we had.
I was supposed to buy six pair for a man but the only good 5-year-olds were in a group of eight pairs. So I asked the man who had bought the 6-year-olds if he could use two more 5-year-olds. He said that would be fine. He is very funny and has a very dry sense of humor. I said to him, “Do you want me to get the two pair that has the biggest calves or the smallest?” He said, “Well, if you would give me the smallest calves, I would have more room in the trailer.”
A friend of mine has a boy that is 3 years old. His mother asked him if he wanted goulash tonight. He didn’t answer her so she asked him again. Finally her little boy said, “I don’t even know her.”
Another grandpa has a young grandson who lives in a smaller town. At the high school they play basketball and baseball but they have never had football there. They were having a family get together so all the kids went outside to play.
An older grandson got his football out of his car and threw the football to the younger grandson. He caught the ball and then hollered out, “I don’t even know where the bases are.”
Editor’s note: The views expressed here are the author’s own and do not represent the view of High Plains Journal. Jerry Nine, Woodward, Oklahoma, is a lifetime cattleman who grew up on his family’s ranch near Slapout, Oklahoma.
