Up on the North 40.
For all you folks who need expert advice on lawn care don't call Dick Niemann or Ed Gardner. Just drive the North 40 and see what the folks are doing . . . now that the last of the snow is gone.
The potato planting was delayed (that's the Good Friday job) but the late snow did give the subsoil a hunger for fertilizers and sunshine.
Eric Larson fixed me up with a bag of nitrogen and a word of caution again this year that if we don't get rain soon, the lawn must be watered to avoid burning. (I like the potent 34-0-0 nitrogen.)
Well, now folks . . . Eric was wasting his advice . . . I got out my Montgomery Ward spreader, directed the growing strong hands of No. 1 son to the handle and said, "pushy-pushy, boy . . . or no ridey-ridey motorcycle."
The job got done . . . and we got a shower the next morning. And I did it all by myself without the help of Ed Flake, Bill Rose and Kitchen Klatter.
The real thing.
"A boy is a noise with dirt on it."
A happy family.
There's a very happy family in the Nebraska City area that has two new additions to their home — they've adopted two Vietnamese children.
We'd like to tell the story about how the family opened their home to children of war torn South Vietnam, but we won't. They've asked us not to. Right now the family needs time to get acquainted. We hope they will call us some time to tell their story. Meanwhile, they are receiving the admiration and respect of close friends.
Today's Famous Quote.
This came from a bumper sticker on a Nemaha county licensed car:
"Pray for me. I drive Highway 67."
If you happened to be in the Elks dining room last Saturday night and didn't know about "it," let me clue you — the streakers struck.
Two sneaker clad streakers made one glaring sprint past the east windows, zippety zipped around the parking lot, the front entrance, into a car, zipped up and buzzed away.
The identity of the streakers is not generally known . . . but I swear . . . I saw the same two zippety-zipping on the football field in the playoff game with Auburn.
We got a sneak preview of the entertainer at the Fremont county, Ia. fair during a dinner the other night at Lincoln. Wes Harrison, the sound expert, put on a 45 minute show that kept his audience entertained.
We saw Mr. Harrison perform some years ago and he's as entertaining today. We can report to Max Boyd and the other members of the fair board, that the fair goers at Sidney, Ia. will enjoy the program.
Stolen
A speaker was introduced as "A man who made a million dollars in oil in Texas."
After he stepped up to the podium, the speaker said, "Before I begin my presentation there are a few corrections I'd like to make."
"It wasn't oil, it was coal, it wasn't a million, it was a quarter of a million, it wasn't me, it was my brother and he didn't make it . . . he lost it."
Didya know . . . There will be another Missouri River raft regatta and this year it will be on June 28. The South Sioux City Jaycees are sponsoring it . . . That on May 4, you'll see a lot of old Chryslers buzzing through town when the Walter P. Chryslers Restorers club makes a tour from Lincoln to Waubonsie park. Terry Hoeman, Columbus, a former Citian, will be wheeling his 1950 Chrysler station wagon.
Remember I've said before about meeting interesting people? Met one the other night.
Art Sackles was with me. In fact, he was driving the truck and stopped it at the meeting place at the Lake Manawa turnoff from I-29. The helmeted man on the motorcycle got off his machine as I got out of the truck. I extended my hand in greeting. He did the same. A cordial greeting. Nothing usual.
Orville Fisher works for the Iowa Power company. He is an ex-GI with a collection of chromed bayonets and a hand grenade. He's an Army reservist now with the rank of drill sergeant. He's what GIs the world over call, tough. (His wife, Janice, confides that he's not really so tough) . . .
Orville had a used motorcycle to sell. Guess who got it. Yeah . . . we's a-goin to take a trip . . . the Queen Bee and me.
Oops, got off the track. Forgot to tell you something else about Orville. He didn't know me from Adam, but was willing to meet me off the interstate at night to direct me to his house.
He came prepared . . . he showed me later . . . a loaded pistol in his pocket. (He has a permit to carry it). When I extended my hand to greet him that night, he could have extended something else if he had doubts.
Sure glad I was wearing my peace-loving little red plaid cap.
We've just added another tie to the tie rack behind the door in the bedroom.
Dr. M. B. De Jarnette came in the other day to check over some printing we were doing for him and we took one look and said:
"Zowie! Wham! Bam! Where'n blazes did you get that colorful polka dot tie? Whattya take for it?"
He answered something to the effect that he liked the tie but was unable to get purple striped overalls and a beret to complete the outfit.
Later that afternoon, he walked into the newspaper office, shirt unbuttoned waving the tie in his hand.
"You wanted it; you've got it."
We didn't get a chance to inquire, but we imagine the Coffee Crooks rubbed him the wrong way the first time he wore it.
Thanks Dr. De Jarnette . . . I'm going to wear it tonight.
Daryl Hall, editor of the Scottsbluff Star-Herald, called the other day.
A retail customer wanted to run an ad in the paper and there was a question on the correct date of Arbor Day. He was told April 22, but the celebration in Nebraska City will be on a Sunday (April 27) as it has for many years.
Mr. Hall said the temperature climbed to 60 degrees during the week and it was much appreciated. "We had 26 inches of snow around here."
Glad you had it there, Daryl, glad you had it there.
Jim Brockhaus, golf coach at Senior High, was instructing Larry Nuss, a high school golfer who has carded a par on Wildwood. As they approached the tee, Jim puffed and said:
"Well, this looks like a good two-stroke hole. One good drive and a putt should do it."
He cut loose with so much power that the windblast parted the fairway for 20 yards, but he grazed the ball and it dribbled off the tee and rolled a few inches.
The positive thinker approached the ball and confidently told his student:
"Now, for one heck of a putt."
His second shot wasn't really that bad, but Larry was laughing so hard from the first, he almost flunked the course.