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"'did" <kadee@inorbit.com> wrote in message
news:lem1i1p2jtfih67a7li5eper2ljb73upib@4ax.com...
> On Wed, 07 Sep 2005 19:05:25 GMT, "Ronnie" <rnvn@snet.net> wrote:
>
>
> Oh, yes! I was going to ask about the news around the pickle barrel.
> Should I stock up on firewood and supplies just in case we are snowed
> in?
---------------------------------------------------------
Hi Ronny; 'Did.
No weather report, or anything else from the feed store. For intelligence on
that subject, here are a couple of paragraphs I had already written
elsewhere.
Truman Cody's feed store---d.b.a. Cody Mills Feed & Seed, Ada,
Oklahoma---burned down about six months ago and it looks like Truman might
not re-build it. It's where everybody used to hang out on days when it was
"too cold" for farming or ranching. We'd use the weather as an excuse to go
buy a sack of feed we didn't need. Lately I've been getting what little feed
I require from Fixmers over at Stonewall --- for lack of a better place ---
and old man Fixmer don't have time for conversation and he don't have a
place for anyone to sit and have one anyway. I'll miss that old cast iron
stove at Cody's and I'll even miss some of the regulars there too.
Ran into one of them, Bill Anoatubby (Chickasaw Tribal Governor---he
actually is tubby), on the street the other day and he told me Ray Ackerman
had died. Old Ray! That bloody old man Fixmer could have mentioned it when I
was in his store, but, like I say; he ain't much for mentionin'.
Ray was in the big war, just like all of us. They say if Mother Nature don't
get you, Father Time will. Well, Mother Nature missed most of us in the war,
so now Father Time finally seems to be getting down to business. I don't
like to think of all the good men gone: Hosteen Yellow Knife (Bruce
Lonewolf's uncle) was one of the first to fight---45th Division; Lou
Heinman, he was a private with the OSS (now the CIA) at the beginning of the
war and came out a bird colonel. He said his colonel's uniform made him
nervous because he wore a burnoose and caftan all through the war (only hint
he ever gave us about what he did).
I hope nothing ever happens to John Flemming, one of the regulars, because
he lets me fly his Stearman whenever I can get up the nerve. John's a
gentleman farmer and also an airline captain and he keeps the Stearman out
in his barn. You have to shoo the chickens out to fly it. When he bought it,
years ago, it had an oversized engine and clipped wings for aerobatics and
John never got around to changing it, so it's hot. That's probably because
he still hot-dogs at air shows here and there. I don't do aerobatics, at
least not any more (some say I never did), but I sure do like that
a-ro-plane. It's a big biplane; open cockpit; better than the one Eddie
Ricketyback used to fly, and it'll do anything a body might get up the nerve
to try. Years ago my neurologist told me I couldn't fly it anymore,
something about G's, but she has moved to Aspen. It scares hell out of me,
but fear must be addictive because I keep going back.
That's the latest on the feed store; may it R.I.P. I think I'll miss it
come winter.
---------------------------------------------------------
Sorry about the head, 'Did. And about that leaking heart. My experience as a
petrochemical engineer tells me that you might possibly have it backwards; I
have observed that a leaky vessel under pressure almost always leaks more as
the pressure is increased.
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