An incident in the news occurring at
the NDSU sheep barn brought back a memory. Two dogs on the loose got
into the sheep barn at the college, killing or injuring a number of
them in the flock. I was taken back to a time when we'd just
returned from a Saturday night outing in town and found several dead
in our flock. The immediate suspect was our black Labrador dog named
Blackie. Dad opened his mouth and found wool in his teeth. I
remember being shunted into the house, after which I heard the loud
report of a shotgun. Dad stood for no animal on the place such as
this, and the dog became an immediate memory.
Spring came on with a vengeance around
here, from winter straight into nice balmy temps. That recent 18
inches of snow disappeared quickly, from snowblowers to lawnmowers.
We had a lawn service power rake our yard, and the man said, “It's
such a short spring.” He has about 60 yards to do, and ours was
only the tenth. Some of these guys really like to work; he works
full-time on the evening shift at UPS, and probably earns a living
wage there. Workaholics.
Tomorrow night, Thursday, I'm scheduled
to make another presentation on the William Wade book. It will be
the last one. I'm on to new things and am having a ball researching
and writing. Books take so darn long to do, so it will probably be a
year before it's ready. In digging through the old newspapers I
always find interesting items. In 1886 the publisher wrote: For fast
plowing and good work, Thomas McCully “takes the cake.” In
fifteen days, with a gang plow, he plowed seventy-five acres, and did
it well, too, going three miles to and three miles from work. This
is an average of five acres per day, which is indeed good work,
considering the present unfavorable condition of the ground for
plowing. Who can beat it?
Another good one follows: City Marshal
Sanborn has given some of our hilariously inclined farmer citizens a
little wholesome advice lately, in consequence of which they crawled
into their wagons and made tracks for home.
And lastly, it's plain to see some
didn't like anyone to have fun on Sunday: Some of our young gents,
not having the fear of their creator before their eyes, indulged in a
match game of baseball last Sunday. Don't do so any more, boys.
