The fall of 1962 was a time of great turmoil for our family. I know I was feeling my own turmoil, just starting to the 7th grade in Troy at a school where I had never been.  

Looking at a 16-year-old, such as my oldest grandson, I am at a loss as to what to suggest as a career choice (not that he has asked me).  

The weekly trips to the McNary Farm settled in to being routine, and by the time I was in the fifth or sixth grade, they could be called boring. We had spent Dad’s vacation every summer on the farm and at last I started lobbying for a vacation somewhere else. 

Mamdani is not the answer to the Democrats’ problems or the voters’ problems.

In the previous episodes in this series, I have led the reader to believe that everything on the McNary Farm was related to the olden days. That was true if you stayed on the ground at certain times.

What I find most amusing are the folks who have come here that don’t like others that have come here.  

Wintertime on the McNary Farm was an entirely different experience. We had two wood-burning stoves, one in the dining room (which was the little “heater” I described in an earlier episode) and one in the living room, which was an old one with a decorative porcelain outside. Neither one of them was much of a stove.

Let’s bring obeying the laws back into fashion. It seems to be the fashion in small towns and rural America. Let’s bring this idea back to the big cities.

Among the collection of buildings in the McNary farmyard, there was a small granary. Most old farmsteads had one of these, usually built upon stone piers so the floor was as high as a wagon bed.  

A dozen years ago in these pages I wrote a column with the hypothetical scenario of small drones being set up near a sporting event, flown into that sporting event, and exploded. The Ukranians just did that in Russia.

My grandmother used to say, “A bee swarm in May is worth a stack of hay, a bee swarm in July ain’t worth a fly.” A May swarm has enough time to build up a store of honey to get through the next winter. A swarm in July does not.

If private organizations had tried to do what the government has done, the government would, in most cases, prosecute them for anti-trust behavior.

We had five or six old five-gallon cans that would nicely fit in the trunk of the 1956 Chevy. So, often, the first task on Saturday mornings was to put the cans in the trunk and drive over to Cynthiana to fill them up.

It is time to bring accountability to all jobs. All jobs should feel the hot breath of accountability.

Television left our house for good when a new show came on called “Mr. Ed.” For you younger folks, this was a comedy about a talking horse. That was the end of television in our home.