Editorial / Opinions

How fortunate we’ve been to see the weather change from winter to spring so nicely. What a beautiful April it’s been! The grass is green, and I’ve been so happy to be out and about meeting new people and talking with new friends about their impact on agriculture. April definitely has been in like a lamb, so I guess that means we have a doozy to look forward to on the back side of this month, but on a day like today with green grass and blue skies, it seems worth it.

Last issue I told you about a prairie chicken, ol’ Lonesome, I’d gotten to know one April morning long, long ago. I was out hunting on Taberville Prairie with my good friend Don Wooldridge.

I ran into an old cowboy friend of mine at the local livestock auction barn last week. I could hardly recognize him with his arm in a sling, two swollen and black eyes, and a hitch in his get-along that was noticeably worse than his normal gait.

I spoke recently with a colleague about a topic we’d both been thinking about a lot lately. Many of you fear coming changes in agriculture policy, and the impact of PETA and the HSUS on your business. Worse, you feel your hands are tied to really have a voice in doing anything to influence the public.

A few issues back I told you about some of the adventures I had with the smelly species of skunks. Here's another skunk tale...

There were lots of ways I justified the purchase of my last farm, some five years ago. It was only a mile from our house; it bordered one of my other places; it had a year-round spring on it that has never been known to go dry and, everyone (including my Farm Credit agent) thought I bought it below the going price of land at the time. The REAL reason, however, is simply because it reminded me of the home farm where I was raised.

Today I am missing someone who is only with us in our memories now. He hasn’t been gone very long, and until just the other day I wasn’t missing him, because I thought he would be there just like all the times before. Whether he sat down beside me in the cafe or parked in a chair out in front of the auction ring, I was always honored that a man like him cared enough about me to want to talk to me. His overalls were always crisp, his cowboy hat always looked just right and he always had a grin and a story. Looked like a farmer to me, and boy did he know the cattle market. I guess you could say he was a pioneer in that area. As I got to know him better, I found that his expertise was sought out in other businesses as well.

I spoke recently with Chuck Hubbert, from MFA, about a topic we’d both been thinking about a lot lately. Many of you fear coming changes in agriculture policy, and the impact of PETA and the HSUS on your business. Worse, you feel your hands are tied to really have a voice in doing anything to influence the public.

The Best of Frank Farmer

He was the first prairie chicken I’d ever seen, and I called him “Lonesome.”

One morning last week, my wife nonchalantly asked if she could borrow my Jeep for the morning. Most men subscribe to the “what’s mine is yours” philosophy and would simply have said, “Sure, take the Jeep, ‘cause I’m using the truck all day to feed cattle.” Those men are not married to my wife and don’t know her track record with unfamiliar vehicles.