Opa's place -Where an old rooster visits with friends

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I agree about the final exit in something you love to do or doing something you are doing then a split second you are gone. My Grandpa died like that, took a walk on the beach that morning, and had breakfast, relaxing in front of TV and then he was gone while he was sleeping. Flew his body in from Florida to IL to be buried. We all kidded him that he decided to go at a time that he does not like flying and he flew with no problems LOL! It was one expensive trip.

I know Hope will find the right thing for her step father. It is very painful of course. At the end of the day, she can be relaxed, knowing he IS in good hands by the caretakers and not worry so much and not you running over to his house daily, making sure he takes his meds, has eaten, etc.
 
I have my garden in the place that it has been for twenty plus years. Each spring, before I rototill, I rake all the detritus. This also removes most of the frost heaved rocks that have surfaced. Then as I rototill I try to pick up any rock that it brings up. Each year fewer and fewer rocks appear and I am now picking up stones smaller than a dime.

My son Joe lives in an area called Stone's Prairie and while one would assume that it was name for an original settler I think the possibility exists that it is referring to the fact that the ground holds more rock than dirt. Very little crop raising occurs in the area and most of the land is used for grazing cattle.

Joe grows quite a lot in his garden but only after much difficulty. With the number of rocks in his garden he only picks up those bigger than his fist. Last year I sent him a text complaining about having to remove rocks to which he replied "I know exactly how you feel". I then sent him a picture of a pile of dime sized rock about 12" across and 1" deep. He responded with calling me a profane name.

Due to the number of years I have been improving my garden soil by adding compost and even some uncomposted manure and sawdust the earth has become a very rich dark loam that tills up easily.

Yesterday I tilled up the garden and then sent Joe a picture along with a text complaining that it had taken me over two hours. In short order I received a reply once again calling me a profane name. I can't understand how I raised such a disrespectful son.
 
Opa said:
I have my garden in the place that it has been for twenty plus years. Each spring, before I rototill, I rake all the detritus. This also removes most of the frost heaved rocks that have surfaced. Then as I rototill I try to pick up any rock that it brings up. Each year fewer and fewer rocks appear and I am now picking up stones smaller than a dime.

My son Joe lives in an area called Stone's Prairie and while one would assume that it was name for an original settler I think the possibility exists that it is referring to the fact that the ground holds more rock than dirt. Very little crop raising occurs in the area and most of the land is used for grazing cattle.

Joe grows quite a lot in his garden but only after much difficulty. With the number of rocks in his garden he only picks up those bigger than his fist. Last year I sent him a text complaining about having to remove rocks to which he replied "I know exactly how you feel". I then sent him a picture of a pile of dime sized rock about 12" across and 1" deep. He responded with calling me a profane name.

Due to the number of years I have been improving my garden soil by adding compost and even some uncomposted manure and sawdust the earth has become a very rich dark loam that tills up easily.

Yesterday I tilled up the garden and then sent Joe a picture along with a text complaining that it had taken me over two hours. In short order I received a reply once again calling me a profane name. I can't understand how I raised such a disrespectful son.
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I think I can
 
I think next week I am going to head south to pick up Dave. I'm looking forward to it since I rather get to see all three sons together at the same time. Also Joe has more beef then he can possibly use. Earlier in the year he had just had a beef slaughtered and had already planned on giving me a large portion of it. Shortly after he was moving some of his cattle and a young 600 lb heifer somehow got jostled by others in the trailer. Falling from the trailer broke her hip resulting in the need to put her down. Rather than waste that meat he had her processed as well.

So when I come back it will be with several ice chest filled with beef and dry ice.
 
Beef, it's what's for dinner. Sam Elliott did a series of commercials several years ago for the Beef Producers Association. I can't sit down to a steak dinner without hearing him in my mind.

Today a new customer stopped and in spite of being well marked, Granny had to explain the procedure to him. Leave what ever you feel is fair. How difficult is that? I must say that so far it has been working out quite well with folks leaving between $3 and $5.
 
That's great, glad it's working out for you. Anything to help with feed costs is a bonus. When I was selling my eggs I was asking less than grocery store caged eggs but people still felt it was necessary to just take them and not leave any money. I guess it should have been called a dishonesty box!
 

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