Pithy Observations From The Ranch Pen

IMG_3152

Stiff winds accompany this forecast, so…can anybody say convection oven?

It’s hot.

Very hot.

 So, lest I tip over dead during the heat of the day, I go inside and catch up on my reading–books, ranch and farm publications, and writers’ magazines. One of the writing magazines I used to love so much has changed this year in a disagreeable way. But, before I recklessly pulled the subscription plug, I decided to email the editor with my polite complaint: the magazine had become pedantic (an excessive or inappropriate display of learning) which almost always bores people stiff.

Super Smart Words

A few months have rocked along and I’m still riding the fence about discontinuing the subscription. On one hand, the mag seems to have more relevant information, but on the other is still pedantic. So, for today’s post I decided to sprinkle some of the superfluous words–which I will underline–throughout my ol’ farm gal post to see if my writing improves with the use of really smart-sounding words. If not, the magazine is…(finger across the throat)

I was partially homeschooled, so I had to look up the meanings of some of these babies. I used an online dictionary, but the politically correct dictionary dudes had already been there. They had changed the definition of marriage to meet an evolving opinion, so the definitions of the other words are perhaps suspect evolving, as well. Take them for whatever they’re worth. Here we go.

puppies

Monomaniac Waiting For A Pup

One of these cuties–a Mother’s Day gift from Gramps–is coming to live with us in a week or two. Which one, is yet to be determined. I’m fourth in line to choose. I want a female which makes things easier–the mama dog had eleven pups, seven females.

Shawna, at Yellow Rose Farm http://www.yellowrosefarm.wordpress.com/ is the breeder and she’s kept me in pictures for the last two months. I’m so excited, I have become almost monomaniacal about these pups. The grandkids and nieces are impatiently waiting, too. I’ll keep y’all posted. Until then, take the kids, grandkids, even the neighbor kids to the library, or get online and grab Old Yeller or Savage Sam by Fred Gipson–two of my all time favorite dog stories. Reading good books will serve the youngsters better than bacchanalias with friends.

IMG_3148Do these freshly dug taters look dangerous to your health? No, they just look yummy.

Taters

The garden yielded up the first new potatoes of the year and I fried ’em up with a fresh picked zucchini and some onions. Then Gramps and I covered the whole mess with homemade sausage gravy and ate a feast fit for a king. Or, at least Okie farmers. I grow weary with hearing about how bad potatoes are for us: They’ll make us fat. They’ll raise our blood sugar. They’ll cause sinus blockage if small children poke the little taters up their noses. What side effects next? Depression? Incompetence Incontinence? Thoughts of suicide?

Tater Hating Causes Pithy Observations From the Ranch Pen

Food is fuel; it’s not the enemy and neither are the farmers and ranchers who grow it.

(No matter what you might read or see in the media.)

And:

If you eat too much and don’t move around enough, you’ll get bigger than you want to be.

Pithy is such a great word

Short, to the point, and easily understood. Farmers and ranchers are good at pithy sayings and observations because they don’t have time to display their homunculus brain power all the time. I use homunculus  (an artificially formed dwarf or small man)here because it reminds me of the word humongous. But, I checked with the politically correct dictionary dudes–they said it’s fine to use those words interchangeably. Just follow my heart.

Phonemes: the special scent bugs send out to attract other bugs?

No, but the word fonemes phonemes is very difficult to drop into countrified blog posts. I defy anyone in southwest Oklahoma to fling the word phonemes around and not draw a blank look. My hearty congratulations goes to the fella in the writers’ magazine for wiggling that super-smart-sounding word into his article. Maybe I won’t pull the plug quite yet.

A Very Present Help In Trouble

Many farmers and ranchers who wrestle a living from the land to feed their families–and everyone else’s–depend on help from the One who never changes. Day in, day out, we depend on Him to help us when the rains fail…and when the rains won’t stop. We depend on His help to protect us and our families in our dangerous occupation…to keep our junk equipment functioning…to help us pay the bills when the harvest doesn’t cover expenses…on and on. Maybe that’s why a lot of us still use the old unabridged dictionary. We know some things never change.

Thanks for reading and until next time, God bless all y’all and enjoy one of my favorite songs, Rescue, by Acappella.

*I plan to drop monomaniacal as often as possible into my writing and conversations, because, seriously…any word with the root maniac has to be a super cool word.

[youtube.com/watch?v=BsA8qybks1M]

*These artists don’t necessarily endorse the blog, I just love ’em.
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6 thoughts on “Pithy Observations From The Ranch Pen

  1. I’m SO glad to have finally gotten to meet you in person! You are as sweet and nice as I imagined you would be. I’m also so thankful that two of my precious pups have homes with your wonderful family!

  2. I have fallen behind on my online reading but I managed to take a few minutes to read your blog tonight. =o) I’m glad that I did. Made me smile. Those taters looked delicious.

  3. I first read the word bacchanalias in Ben Hur… and never forgot it. I feel that I might possibly have homunculus brain power. (An artificially formed dwarf brainpower.) I – because of this post – have become monomaniacal about a feast of potatoes, squash, onions, sausage gravy & a generous helping of jalapenos on the top. Enjoyed the post, and the supper idea.

    • Those were all awesome words. I’m impressed you can sling them around so easily–as though it twas no trouble at all! I had the dickens of a time working them in 🙂
      It’s aproximately 2000* in the house–give or take 1900*, or so–or I would fry up a mess of taters and stuff, again. C’mon, Gramps. Get the cooler fixed.

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