Farm stories from my dad

Both my parents were born on a farm. My mother's dad worked as an electrician, then a tool maker, so my mother ended up leaving the farm life relatively early. My father, however, pretty much stayed on the farm until he graduated from high school (After that, he became a tool maker, a repair man for industrial equipment, and finally a plant manager). As a couple, they were known as "Goody Two-Shoes and the Filthy Beast."

The goody two-shoes part isn't an exaggeration, but the filthy beast part is more a product of my dad's sense of humor than anything else.

Of course, anyone who is paying attention is going to realize that I'm a cross between goody two-shoes and the filthy beast. Nobody who knows me well is surprised.

As you might imagine, Dad has quite a few stories about farm life. He also is known for his colorful sayings and expressions, but a large fraction of them won't ever make it to these pages.

My dad is the youngest of four kids. As the little brother, he had to put up with a certain amount of non-sense -- especially from his big sister (the oldest of the crew).

But in this case, it was his older brothers who are the guilty party.

Even way back in the stone age, electric fences were used to keep the livestock where they belong. To work properly, the hot lead is attached to the fence, and the ground lead is attached to a rod pounded into the ground. That rod is very important, because the current needs a complete path in order to shock the critter in question.

Dad's older brothers informed him that the problem with the fence that day was that the ground was too dry around the rod. They talked little Chucky into umm... watering it. I understand that the results were rather enlightening.

Apparently, his 'equipment' came to no permanent harm, though it may have addled the brains of his future offspring.

But that isn't the story I was planning on telling. It really just serves as an indication of where he gets his sense of humor.

One time, his cousins came for a visit. One of them was quite interested in the pigeons. In order to see the nesting birds, he stuck his head into the coop and looked up.

Now, try this experiment. Look up as high as you can. What happens to your mouth?

Yep, you guessed it. This guy pulled his head out and started hacking and spitting for all he's worth.

My father, ever so sympathetic, said "It's a good thing you had your mouth open or that bird would have pooped right in your face!"