Most farmers and ranchers were smiling at the sale on May 24 because we finally got some very nice rain across a large area.
It looked like 100 miles to the west of Woodward they only got a half inch. But even Slapout, Oklahoma, received 1.36 inches. That is where I grew up and I thought we lived in the desert. Closer to Woodward we received just under 2 inches and toward Oklahoma City there was 3 up to 4 1/2 inches.
I get amused at different personalities with farmers. This morning several farmers announced how much rain they had received and they were sure happy. One spoke up and said, “Yeah, but one weatherman said if we don’t get rain now it is going to be a long dry spell.”
One farmer who is comical said, “You know I was farming in this country for 10 years before I knew that wheat ever made a head.” And if you knew this man you would know what he meant. He would have had enough cattle out there on his wheat that it never got big enough to head out.
A funny story I heard this week about this man who would place his sons out in the crowd to be bidders to make sure his cattle brought enough. One son was 12 years old so when he bid the auctioneer wondered whether he should take his bid since he was so young.
So the auctioneer stopped and said, “Young man, are you sure you are supposed to bid on these cattle?” When he did that this boy hollered out, “Well, they re our cattle so it doesn’t matter anyway.”
A lady asked a friend of mine if he drank beer. He said, “Yes.” She said, “How many do you drink per day?” He replied, “About three.” The lady said, “How much does each beer cost?” He said, “Well, with the tip it cost $5 each.” She said, “And how long have you been drinking?” He said quite a long time.
She said, “Did you realize that three beers a day equates to $450 per month?” My friend said that sounded about right.
The lady said, “Did you know if you would have put that money in a savings account that after interest you would have had enough money to buy a plane?” My friend said, “Ma’am do you drink beer?” She said, “No, absolutely not.” He said, “Then where’s your dang plane?”
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.
