I promised you last week that I’d get back to humor in this column. So, I’ll start with this:
A deceased farmer, ol’ “Bum” Fuzzle — in his last will and testament — declared that he “wanted his 17 cows divided up with the eldest son getting one-half of the cows, the middle son getting one third of the cows, and his youngest son getting only one-ninth of the cows.”
However, at the reading of the will, Bum’s lawyer, Ike N. Dewhitt, ran into a problem. Neither he nor any of the sons could figure out how to follow the deceased man’s directive. So, lawyer Ike decided to buy himself some time and told the sons that he’d try to come up with an answer by the next morning’s meeting.
That night lawyer Ike thought and thought, and contemplated and contemplated, and finally had a mental breakthrough. The next morning, with Bum’s three sons sitting on pin and needles, lawyer Ike told them he’d come up with an equitable solution.
He said the sons should borrow a cow from any of their neighbors, but promise no harm would come to the cow and it would be returned unscathed.
Now the sons were dealing with 18 cows. So, the eldest son got 9 cows — his half. And the middle son got 6 cows — his third. And, the youngest son got 2 cows, his one-ninth.
The lawyer told the boys to return the neighbor’s borrowed cow. They did and everyone went home knowing that their dad’s will had been followed to the letter.
***
A newly-married farm couple were having their first marital spat. The spat wuz about other members of their extended families.
The husband got in the last word when he seriously told his wife, “No I don’t hate your relatives. In fact, I like your mother-in-law better than I like mine.
***
I’m happy to report that the spring fishing season got hot in a hurry for me. My ol’ Iowa buddy, Pegan Ray, stopped by for a couple of days of fishing on his way home from overwintering at Apache Junction, Ariz.
I told Pegan that I wuzn’t optimistic about our chances of catching fish because I’d heard of no one having much success and because the weather has been so chilly that the water hadn’t warmed up. I said most likely we’d just be going through the motions.
So much for the accuracy of my fishing prognostications. The first day we caught 26 crappie and a few little bass and bluegills. But the crappies were big ‘uns, all were more than a pound. And the biggest wuz 15-inches long and weighed just a tad under 2-pounds.
Strange thing about the catch. When we filleted the crappie, 25 of them were females full of eggs and close to spawning. However, the big 2-pounder wuz the only male of the bunch.
The next day we traveled 50 miles southeast to fish in the pond of my good friend, ol’ Parker Loosely. I figgered it wuz a wild goose chase because the strong wind wuz out of the northwest and the temperature never got above 55 degrees. It wuz just plain chilly fishing.
But, the wind and temp didn’t bother the fish because we caught 17 more big crappie, plus about an equal number of nice bass. I caught a 3.5-pounder. Ray caught a 3-pounder and we had four others around 2-pounds.
So, in the end, we had two great days of fishing and we both have a lot of good fish fillets in the freezer. Only negative from the whole two days? The arthritis flared up in my 79-year-old in my right hand from wielding the electric filleting knife. But, that’s a small price to pay for the fun and the good eating to come.
***
Before I move completely on from the recent trip Nevah and I took to Lubbock, Texas, there’s a few things I’d like to mention about our trip.
The first evening we stayed overnight in Pratt, Kan., with my old college buddy Claude Hopper. Then the next day we headed southwest across western Oklahoma on two-lane roads all the way. We went from Alva, through Clinton, through Altus and exited Oklahoma at El Dorado.
We bucked 40-50 mph head winds all the way and the temperature kept rising. And, a few miles across the Red River into Texas the thermometer hit 100 degrees and then dropped to 98 for the rest of the day.
When we headed west toward Lubbock, we passed the historic headquarters of the 6666 Ranch, recently made famous by the producer of the Yellowstone television show Taylor Sheridan. There must have been at least 100 good looking Quarterhorses around the fancy headquarters.
Then, just a few more miles west we passed the headquarters of the equally historic Pitchfork Ranch.
When we got to Lubbock the visibility from the dust was one mile and the southwest wind would peel your car doors off if you opened them wrong. But, the next morning the temperature wuz in the 50s and the wind strong out of the northwest.
After completing our library bizness at Texas Tech University, we toured the university’s Ranching and Western Heritage Center, then headed north and drove through the Palo Duro Canyon south of Amarillo, and spent the night in Guymon, Okla. Next day we drove east through the Oklahoma Panhandle, then shot north to drive through Protection, Kan., where my ol’ dad, Czar E. Yield, wuz born in 1916. Then on east through Coldwater and Medicine Lodge to I-35 and then home.
We traveled more than 1,300 miles and the wildlife we saw wuz limited to one coyote, several deer, four cock pheasants, and a blizzard of buzzards. All in all, it wuz a very good spring vacation. Note: It’s bone dry in the Texas Panhandle.
Words of wisdom for the week: “When I man says he hasn’t made up his mind yet, he means he hasn’t had a chance to ask his wife yet.” Have a good ‘un.
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