Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Here we are in December and I see livestock in numerous pastures where there is no grass left to eat.

It was a gray and dreary morning. Not much happening. Not much to spark the day. Until the phone rang.

How is it that in the advent of modern technology, the untold wonders borne of the industrial revolution, and the joy of living in an age that has (at last!) developed a disposable toilet bowl brush, some things remain pathetically unchanged? Advanced.

When mad cow test alerts hit the airwaves, Dusty and Cheryl Sonnenberg were worried they wouldn't be able to market their dairy beef products.

Struggling in my handbag is an almost daily experience for me. Oh, I made sure to choose a bag with all the organizer pockets including one for a cell phone.

For nearly two years, U.S. farmers and ranchers watched as the second shoe grew bigger and bigger. On Nov.

My daughter Caroline is putting her driver's permit to good use, always asking if there is any place I need to go, ever willing to drive me.

I am proud - if a bit startled - to report that my younger cousin brought her own baby to Thanksgiving dinner this year.

Based on the e-mails, brickbats and live grenades sent me the last few weeks, it's time to come clean: I kidnapped the Lindbergh baby.

Obviously, I am failing to see the big picture, money wise, and for this (and my being a writer - a career path which ranks slightly lower than illegal alien bus boy in terms of financial success), I'm unlikely to ever be obscenely, or even G-ratedly, rich.