Wednesday, June 1, 2016

I have often thought the study of science ought to be fun. Mostly, the subject of science in the classroom feels, to the majority of students, like drudgery and boring recitation of facts.

Even before the ink had dried on last week's column - a detailed report that, at least to me, made an ironclad case not to raid the Conservation Reserve Program to fuel the anticipated ethanol boom - members of the House Agriculture Committee were listening to testimony that urged a raid on the program to fuel the ethanol boom.

As usual, none of this is MY fault. I really had moved to the stage of acceptance of the "charm" of old house life - the smallish yet tallish rooms, the quirky corners, the cobwebs that spawn overnight.

Carol and I were pricing clothes at the consignment shop where I work part time. Carol, my supervisor/boss, manages the Next to New Shop in the basement level of the Columbiana Women's Club.

The upcoming debate over the next U.S. farm bill has a lot of people trying to figure out what has worked in present and previous farm bills and what changes should be made for the future.

While it is true that every day is filled with blessings, there is something about September that leads me to believe that there are more blessings in every single day of this certain month than we can count on our two hands.

Drop a pebble in the ag policy pond and the resulting ripples seem to rush over many farmers' self-interest.

Let me state, for the record, what has long been suspected and recently proven: I am not a trooper. Trooper.

I meant to grab a refill for my checkbook and was sorry to find an empty check box. I don't remember taking out the last set of checks and don't remember any order form that should have been sent in.

Throughout Ohio there has been a great deal of discussion about increasing profits for local dairy farms.
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