Sunday, June 21, 2026

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

Even before Ann Veneman quietly submitted her resignation as secretary of agriculture Nov. 12, the Washington grapevine hung heavy with a long list of likely replacements.

Just this past week, I once again had a meeting with school officials regarding Cort's on-going struggle with his health and how that pertains to his education.