“Where are we going to eat?”
“We’re going to eat at home.”
Many people ask the first question, but few respond the way we do most of the time.
“Where are we going to eat?”
“We’re going to eat at home.”
Many people ask the first question, but few respond the way we do most of the time.
Lloyd Wulfkuhle’s only moved 100 feet in his lifetime.
“I was born in our farm home right over there, so I haven’t made a lot of headway,” Wulfkuhle evaluated tongue-in-cheek from the office at Lone Pine Ag-Services, Inc.
While being true, it’s a misnomer. The family farm has changed a lot since Wulfkuhle’s great grandfather started farming the original Douglas County quarter section west of Lecompton in the 1890. Continue reading →
“Pictures remember when the mind forgets.”
Generally always with camera in hand, smiling broadly Bronco Betty sees agriculture life through the lens and records that for perpetuity.
“It’s easy to forget something about somebody, but a photograph brings back the meaning.” Continue reading →
“You’re d… right it hurts, but we’re getting better. We’ll be ready for San Antonio.”
“No pain, no gain” takes on true meaning for Cody Scheck of Ellinwood, one of only two Kansas cowboys qualifying for the National Finals Steer Roping this year at Guthrie, Oklahoma.
“You’re d… right it hurts, but we’re getting better. We’ll be ready for San Antonio.”
“No pain, no gain” takes on true meaning for Cody Scheck of Ellinwood, one of only two Kansas cowboys qualifying for the National Finals Steer Roping this year at Guthrie, Oklahoma.
“It’s been two weeks since surgery, and there’s sure enough improvement. The doctor said it’d take four months to recover, but I’m shooting for three, so I can get back competing,” insisted Scheck, placing 11th in the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association standings. Continue reading →
“Don’t play with matches.”
That’s long been the warning about just one strike of a match.
Others stressed: “Don’t play with fire,” as there are identical consequences.
Wind was brisk, but those brush piles continued to worry us. We grabbed the kitchen matches along with old papers as starting fuel and attempted to start a fire. Continue reading →
“This is the best parade I’ve ever seen.”
An outburst of clapping became contagious as a fringe-topped survey pulled by a fast trotting bay horse with silky-long-flowing-mane-and-tail, and adorned in Christmas tassels and patriotic plume, rolled onto Massachusetts Avenue, packed with spectators, semblance of football stadiums later in the day.
“Wyatt got a buck. We’re going over to see it.”
That note was on the kitchen table as we came in after work.
Fortunately, we got there just in time to go along and see the excited fifth grade grandson display his trophy. Continue reading →