Dazed and Confused

Dazed and confused, the once-loyal followers spent the day in hiding. Leaderless and without direction they cringed in fear expecting the next knock at the door to be soldiers to take them away.

Only a few of the women ventured out to the hill to see the Teacher as He hung there. Tears streaked their dusty cheeks as they mourned and moaned in their agony at the foot of the cross.

"It is finished."

A spear in the side.

Watch where they lay Him.

What do we do? We must find Peter.

A Travesty of Justice

It had been a blur.

They had walked up on the Mount of Olives where He always went to pray but couldn't stay awake. Too much food and wine left them groggy.

Then the crowd. Judas. How could He go so peacefully with them? We would have fought! Instead we ran and hid like cowards.

"Weren't you with Him?"
"Oh, no! I don't know Him!"
"Surely you were with Him!"
"I was not!"
"You're a Galilean just like Him!"
"I don't know what you are talking about!"

Now the darkness enveloped; hiding the tears; the agony.

The council of elders tried Him. It was a travesty. They broke their own laws.

They took Him before Pilate and then Herod for only death would quench the flame of their hatred. They both thought, "a little punishment, a little ridicule for this rabble rouser to satisfy the mob and then we'll wash our hands of this affair."

The lash fell. The flesh tore. The blood flowed. The thorns pierced. Again and again and again and still the mob cried, "Crucify Him!"

"Crucify Him! Crucify Him! Crucify Him! Crucify Him!"

So they hung Him with criminals on a cross at the Place of the Skull.

And in love He responded, "Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."

No Sense At All

To them, it was only a Passover meal. They were good Jews. It was a ritual they had each learned at their homes as they grew and were taught the traditions of their people.

It was a time of feasting. It was a time of fellowship. Why did the teacher seem to be so withdrawn? He seemed preoccupied.

The merry band bantered about the time when the teacher would reveal Himself as the chosen one; the Messiah; the One who would overthrow the Romans and return the Kingdom to the Hebrew people. The chosen people. The sons of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Who would be greatest?

What is this washing of feet? That was a task for servants not for a leader. He who would be greatest among you will be your servant? It made no sense.

His body? His blood? It is only bread and wine yet the words hammer into the minds and lodge there with all of the other things that He said that made no sense.

Now just where is Judas going?

Music and Western History in Common

This past weekend I attended the Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Convention and Trade Show in Corpus Christi. During the afternoons of the two-day trade show, entertainment was provided by John Arthur Martinez and Mike Blakely. These guys are great musicians and talented writers as well. Click on their names for links to their websites. Besides performing his music Mike Blakely is an accomplished western writer.

On Saturday evening after the Trade Show was over, I discovered that the two of them and I were staying at the same motel. A good friend of mine who also has a couple of blogs (here and here) struck up a conversation with them as he was waiting for me to meet him for dinner. When I walked up and was introduced the conversation continued about music and history and kids and values and all of the things that we all seemed to have in common. Before it was time for dinner we discovered that John Arthur's wife knew the wife of one of my cousins who happens to live in the same town (Marble Falls, Texas, and the creative community of CastleRock) with them. As we talked, we discovered how small the world truly is. For great Texas flavor, both the music of John Arthur Martinez and the books and music of Mike Blakely, can't be beat. I recommend you try them out. Check out some of these links to Amazon.

Lone Starry Night - John Arthur Martinez

Stand Your Ground - John Arthur Martinez

Shortgrass Song - Mike Blakely

Moon Medicine - Mike Blakely

West of You - Mike Blakely (music)

Country Dogs

Dogs have been called man’s best friend. I’ve never really figured out why unless it is because of their devotion and loyalty – even when treated like a – well, uh, a dog.

Dogs are a part of living in the country. Rarely do you drive by a farmstead where there aren’t one or two dogs present. Sometimes they just lie on the porch or the yard and watch you drive by and at other times they chase you.

Country dogs are frequently treated very differently than city dogs. They are often left to roam about the farm with little impediment. Their city cousins are usually impounded within a yard or kennel or even more frequently, in the house. This difference in treatment must have an impact on their personality.

I have owned a number of dogs through the years. The first that I remember well was a Bassett/Beagle cross that used to accompany me as I trekked the pasture as a youngster. My father insisted that I always have the dog with me as protection against the occasional rattlesnake that I might stumble upon. She proved herself more than once in that capacity. Eventually she was bitten on the jaw by one of the snakes – although not while in my company. I was amazed at her recovery after a few weeks.

Some years later I acquired another dog while working as a Veterinary Assistant. She was a young Australian Shepherd who had been kicked in the eye by a cow. The owner gave her to me rather than “putting her down.” I removed the eye with the assistance of the Veterinarian and enjoyed her company for many years. She was a very intelligent and very gentle dog. Apparently, she also had a long memory. She never would go near cows again.

My one-eyed cow dog gave me a litter of pups one year. The father must have been a coyote – literal, not figurative. I kept one of those pups for a few years. She was one of the best hunters that I have ever seen. That hunting instinct was also a failing. She thought the neighbor’s cattle were game and had to be destroyed.

One of my favorite dogs was a Redbone Coonhound named Beauregard. He was a beautiful dog when grown, although extremely awkward as a pup. We lived near the Republican River in Nebraska and tried keeping him and our Chocolate Lab in a pen when they weren’t hunting. Beau was a master at escape though. If he got a scent in his nostrils he became obsessed with pursuit and would manage an escape. We always knew when he was out because he would start baying as he pursued the scent. I thought it was some of the most beautiful music in the world. He would take the Lab on his hunts. They made a great team. He would chase down the game and she would retrieve it. They constantly provided us with “offerings” left on the porch.

My newest dog is a tri-colored Australian Shepherd. He is extremely “intelligent” as far as his ability to learn tricks. That intelligence makes him a handful as well. He seems to have a mind of his own and requires constant vigilance to keep him out of trouble.

So, what do dogs have to do with agriculture? I think they are so deeply entrenched into the agrarian world that we overlook their usefulness. First, they keep us company. Often the lonely workday is eased by the company of a faithful companion riding along in the pickup. Second, they provide protection. Their alertness acts as a sentry for things that we often fail to notice – such as snakes or approaching strangers. The sometimes isolated nature of country life occasionally attracts individuals with malicious intent. Good watch dogs are important when you live a good distance from your nearest neighbor. Third, they work for us. If you have ever seen a good dog work cattle or sheep you know exactly what I mean. It is amazing to see the obedience as the dog responds to the commands of his handler.

I guess after reflection that it certainly is true; dogs are man’s best friend --especially out in the country.

Daylight Savings Swing Time

Each Spring with Daylight Savings time
We set our clocks ahead

Then gripe and moan of that lost hour

Of sleep we missed in bed.

We wish to leave well enough alone

And forego the seasonal fix

Until we readjust internal clocks

To 5 o'clock being six!

Once again the sun is rising

As to work we drive.

And though for a day or two it's hard

We know that we'll survive

Especially as the days grow warm

And we see the blooming of the spring.

Then we dig out that bag of clubs

And get back in the swing!

Yankee or Dixie?

I found this over on Finding Direction:

Yankee or Dixie?

It told me I was 89% Dixie and then asked if there were Confederates in my ancestry -- imagine that y'all. Try it out and comment with your scores.

Besieged

Should we choose to entrench ourselves around our convictions and enter into a siege mentality or should we advance from our positions and take the war to the enemy? The question applies to Iraq, Afghanistan, North Korea, Iran and any other strong-hold of terrorism. It also applies to the cultural war between Christians and anti-Christians.

I originally characterized the war as between Christians and secularism. But upon reflection it is a much broader war. Secularists seem to support every cause imaginable but that of Christianity. They even support the rights of the terrorists to attack the U.S.

Why does it seem that the world is aligned against Christianity and Judaism? Why isn't the world aligned against Islam, or Hinduism, or Buddhism, or Animism, or Scientology, or any of the other so-called religions? Please enlighten me in your comments.

What happens in a siege? Either the attackers give up or the bastion is felled. It is time to leave the castle and take the battle to the enemy.

Typing Challenge

A challenge for you:

65 words Speedtest

Not too bad for an old man.

A Look at Longhorns

I have been re-reading “The Longhorns” by J. Frank Dobie. Being something of a history buff, especially history that relates to Texas and even more particularly, that relates to the Panhandle region, I have really enjoyed getting reacquainted with this classic work.

When we look at the cattle that cover the plains today, what we see is a far cry from the tough-hided, multi-colored Longhorns of legend. We see fine-haired cattle with rarely a stubby set of horns that is descended from British breeds that were first brought to this country to “upgrade” the breed that could be considered the first in Texas.

Considering Longhorns a breed is probably not especially accurate. There was little uniformity in the original Longhorn cattle that developed in the brush country of central and southern Texas. They were descendants of Mexican corriente and crillo cattle that escaped the first ranchers to venture into the wilds of Texas. But that wasn’t all of the blood that flowed through their veins. Oxen that transported the first Anglo inhabitants from the fledgling ports of the 1830’s often escaped to run wild in the brush and add their genetic diversity to what came to be called the Longhorn. Along with the oxen, Old Bossy, the family milk cow added her characteristics as well.

Longhorns were a product of survival. It took horns to fight off wolves and bears which inhabited the brush country in those early days. It also took fleetness and a sort of natural cunning that enabled the Longhorns, in country beset by cactus, drought, and thickets of thorny shrubs that rabbits could hardly penetrate, to survive.

During the period between establishing the first colonies in Texas until after the Civil War, the wild cattle of Texas were rarely bothered. They were commonly hunted like deer for table beef or for their hides. The hides were generally used as rawhide to make many common items that early settlers were unable to obtain by other means.

During the Civil War, a number of these wild South Texas cattle were trailed north and east to help meet the needs of the Confederacy for beef. It was not until after the war was over and thousands of former soldiers and displaced people headed west to make their fortunes that the Longhorns were seen as a potential treasure.

Beginning in the late 1860’s, the cattle were trapped and gathered into herds to make the trail north or east to railroads where they could be shipped to slaughter houses to meet the growing demand for beef. Those cattle trails really weren’t trails at all. They were marked by general way points where good water could be found. The trails were constantly shifting westward as the prairies became tamed and settlers ventured into lands previously under the control of the Indians.

The first Longhorns to trail into the Texas Panhandle arrived compliments of Charlie Goodnight in 1876. The Goodnight cattle came from the brush country of the Nueces River in South Texas. The cattle likely came west on the Goodnight-Loving trail which headed up the middle branch of the Concho River before heading across country to Horsehead Crossing on the Pecos. Goodnight supplied cattle to John Chisum at Bosque Redondo in New Mexico as well as to a few other hardy ranchers that were able to hold onto large chunks of range by negotiating, sometimes with lead, an uneasy truce with the Apache and Comanche Indians that still ruled. He also supplied beef that ended up at some of the far-flung outposts of the U.S. Cavalry. Ultimately Goodnight decided to establish a ranch on the upper Arkansas River in Colorado. Some of his first stock was purchased from John Chisum and trailed up the Pecos and then cross-country into Colorado.

In 1876, Goodnight decided to pull up stakes in Colorado and move into the newly “tamed” country of the Texas Panhandle. The natural features of Palo Duro Canyon made it easy to hold his Longhorns. It also provided good grass along the banks of the creek and in the various side canyons that fed into it. The high walls provided shelter from the storms that swooped down from the north. Ranching had come to the Panhandle.

Close on his heels came other ranchers and efforts to upgrade the stock from the wild critter that was built for running and for fighting wolves into the tame creature that we see today. The Texas Longhorns helped to tame the land that no longer needed their survival characteristics.

Humming Wheels

The hum of wheels on the highway
Never ceases
As I sit and watch the commerce of
The nation.

Endlessly the strings of eighteen-wheelers
Roll by.
Covered with tarps, I guess at the loads
They carry.

Some are hauling cattle or other types
Of stock
And some are hauling containers filled
With televisions.

One a moment ago was a tanker full
Of milk
And now I see a reefer rig hauling
Ice cream.

They are filled with parts for cars or
Cars themselves
There's loads of gravel and rock for
The roads.

I see parts for the giant windmills rising on
The Plains
And oilfield parts and things that I
Can't explain.

Loads of corn and food and
Even fuel
To keep them rolling ever more across
This land.

The commerce of the nation is carried on
Those wheels
That never cease their rolling down
The highway.

Thank a truck driver the next time you see one.

A New Blog For Your Enjoyment

I have added a link in my sidebar to a new blog to which I contribute. It is called Blue Island Almanack. The focus of the blog is the environment, economics, education and ethics. Drop by and take a look. Feel free to comment. Be sure and add it to your favorites.

Is it the Hat, or the Boots?

Yesterday afternoon I was privileged to tour one of my customer's ranching and cattle feeding operation. What struck me about it was the simplicity of the operation and the sophistication of the operator. Every part of their organization was designed for functionality. There weren't any frills. There was no show. It was just efficient and effective.

I think that is where a lot of folks miss the boat. They're more worried about what other people think than about doing their job the best it can possibly be done. In the cattle business that's sometimes referred to as "all hat and no cattle." What that means is that they talk big, they put on a show and they want you to think they are really something when in reality it is empty. There's really not much there. Most of the successful folks that I know are the other way. On the surface there's nothing that really distinguishes them from the crowd except possibly a slight air of confidence. If you dig deeply though, you find a lifestyle of success that is evidenced in results, not show. They are the folks that in this business it can be said, "have a little cow manure on their boots."

In Stillness

In stillness,
God is.

Anxiety
Slowly dissipates.

Peace
remains.

Comforting,
Protecting,
Resting,
Gentle,
Peace.

In stillness,
God is.

Moving

Gather the boxes
And pack them
With the accumulation
Of years of living.

Pause for reflection
At discovering
An object unseen
For ages.

Label and stack --
Where will it go?
How will it fit
Into its new home?

Watch as the truck
Is filled with the things
Acquired by sweat,
By inheritance,

By chance,
By investment.
Life
In transition.

It is the end of
Generations
And the beginning of
What?

New relationships,
New places,
New habits,
New growth.

One hundred and twenty-five
Years of attachment
Uprooted and transported
In a weekend.

_____________________

This past weekend we moved my parents from the town in which my mother was born. She has never lived anywhere else -- until now. My father has lived in that town since taking his first job after graduation from college. Added together, it is 125 years of living in the town where I grew up. They now occupy their new home just a few miles from where I currently live.

Heeding Experience

I once had a professor who said,
"I know that it's a cliche
But there's more than one way to skin a cat!"
He was referring to the balance between
Realistic expectations based on how things are
Versus the seemingly unatainable dreams
That inhabit our hearts.

"The key is to never give up," he said.
"Keep doing something every day
That moves you closer to what you really want to do."
He added, "Sometimes our dreams change
As the years go by
And we find that the things that we thought we wanted
Aren't what they seemed
And the things that come our way
Are sometimes better!"

Now who would have thought
That the wisdom of his words
Would be revealed so many years later?
Youth has a way of dismissing
What experience has taught.
Wisdom is heeding
Those with experience.

Plans and More Plans

Planning is fine --
It must be done, I know.
But nothing is accomplished
'Til you get off of go.

I suppose if you're launching
A ship to the moon
Each and every detail
Must be in fine tune,

But most earthly projects
Are not so exact
In the requirements
It takes to enact.

It seems that quite often
The course one should take
Isn't quite clear
Until first efforts we make

Are examined.
It is then that we see
Where the course needs adjustment
To get us to where we want to be.

So go on ahead
And plan details, each one.
While you're doing that
I'll get the job done.

The Golden Spur and Rising W

Last night, we traveled with some friends to the booming metropolis of Happy, Texas, to eat. A couple that I grew up with opened a steakhouse there called The Golden Spur Steakhouse. We all wanted to go down and try it out. The food was excellent.

They had a large crowd last night and it took a little longer than normal to get our food, but the wait was worth it. The steaks they serve are all Certified Angus Beef. CAB is typically much higher quality for tenderness and marbling than the cuts you generally find in the grocery store. They also make a tasty bread pudding or a dutch oven peach cobbler with homemade ice cream to top it off.

The Golden Spur is owned and operated by Jim and Debbie Walters. They have many years experience cooking and Jim especially enjoys chuckwagon cooking. He has a second business called Rising W Chuckwagon which is a catering business. They do a lot of cooking for company outings or special events. They can bring the wagon (pictured below) or not. They recently returned from San Antonio where they cooked for a large group of our wounded soldiers home from Iraq. They took the wagon to that event. I have included a link to their Chuckwagon Catering business in my sidebar. Check it out.

Happy Birthday Dad

Today is my father's 77th birthday.

Dad grew up in Southwestern Oklahoma during the Dustbowl and Depression on a dryland farm in a family of 7 kids. After the untimely death of his father in 1943, those 7 kids were raised by their mother.

Dad became an expert shot with a rifle as he was growing up. Wild game was an important part of their diet and often the only meat on the table. My uncle once told of watching my father run along behind a covey of quail that was running down a fence line. As he ran, he would shoot the last bird in the line with a single-shot .22 rifle. He shot nearly the entire covey before stopping. His comment was that ammunition was scarce and every shot had to count.

Of the 7 kids, all but 2 received a college education. They did so through their own perseverance and initiative. Five of them, including my father, pursued careers in education. At one point in my own education I was required to interview my father about why he chose the career that he did. His response was that in Southwestern Oklahoma during his early years, teaching was one of the most respected and secure careers. I suspect that it was his calling because many times through the years I have heard people comment about how my father made a positive influence in their life through his role as an educator/school administrator.

Dad always made time for us as we were growing up -- and still does today. He played catch, took us hunting, fishing and camping. He taught us to work. And he does the same for his grandchildren now. He always made time to attend anything that we participated in -- and does the same for his grandchildren.

He and my mother have been married over 50 years and have lived in the same town all of that time. They will be moving in the next few weeks to the town in which I live. My mother has never lived anywhere else. They want to be close to their kids and grandkids.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Ten Questions - Answer if you wish....

1. Should CO2, the product of respiration, be considered a "greenhouse" gas? If so, why?

2. If, instead of cattle covering the plains eructing gases, we still had buffalo covering the same area, would the environmentalists be complaining that belching buffalo were causing global warming?

3. If Fred Thompson had not entered the race for the Presidency, would Mike Huckabee have won in South Carolina and thus be in a better position to capture the Republican nomination?

4. Why doesn't the government cut our taxes rather than offering a rebate as a stimulus to the economy?

5. Is cryogenic preservation in anticipation of future resuscitation when medical and scientific advances might extend life provide realistic expectations of at least temporarily overcoming death? Does such a belief preclude belief in a soul -- in life-after-death?

6. Do the Giants have a chance at winning the Super Bowl?

7. Are the current "deep-freeze" weather conditions across the U.S. a result of Global Warming?

8. Will China eventually invade the Middle East in a quest for energy resources?

9. If a Democrat wins the Presidential race, will we move further toward socialized medicine over the coming four years?

10. Do you believe there is intelligent life somewhere in this universe? I'm beginning to doubt its presence here on earth....

Thompson Out

Thompson drops out of GOP presidential race

And It Snows

The cold wind blows
And it snows

So that drifts form
As the storm

Scours the field
And I shield

My stinging face
In this place

Where the bitter cold
Seems to enfold

While I desire
A roaring fire

Where I may warm
This frozen form

As the cold wind blows
And it snows.

What's in a Name...

I found this over on Born Again Redneck Yogi.

What Christopher Means

You are very open. You communicate well, and you connect with other people easily. You are a naturally creative person. Ideas just flow from your mind. A true chameleon, you are many things at different points in your life. You are very adaptable. You are truly an original person. You have amazing ideas, and the power to carry them out. Success comes rather easily for you... especially in business and academia. Some people find you to be selfish and a bit overbearing. You're a strong person. You are wild, crazy, and a huge rebel. You're always up to something. You have a ton of energy, and most people can't handle you. You're very intense. You definitely are a handful, and you're likely to get in trouble. But your kind of trouble is a lot of fun. You tend to be pretty tightly wound. It's easy to get you excited... which can be a good or bad thing. You have a lot of enthusiasm, but it fades rather quickly. You don't stick with any one thing for very long. You have the drive to accomplish a lot in a short amount of time. Your biggest problem is making sure you finish the projects you start. You are the total package - suave, sexy, smart, and strong. You have the whole world under your spell, and you can influence almost everyone you know. You don't always resist your urges to crush the weak. Just remember, they don't have as much going for them as you do. You are a seeker. You often find yourself restless - and you have a lot of questions about life. You tend to travel often, to fairly random locations. You're most comfortable when you're far away from home. You are quite passionate and easily tempted. Your impulses sometimes get you into trouble. You are well rounded, with a complete perspective on life. You are solid and dependable. You are loyal, and people can count on you. At times, you can be a bit too serious. You tend to put too much pressure on yourself. You are influential and persuasive. You tend to have a lot of power over people. Generally, you use your powers for good. You excel at solving other people's problems. Occasionally, you do get a little selfish and persuade people to do things that are only in your interest. You are friendly, charming, and warm. You get along with almost everyone. You work hard not to rock the boat. Your easy going attitude brings people together. At times, you can be a little flaky and irresponsible. But for the important things, you pull it together.

What's Your Name's Hidden Meaning?

At least part of it is probably on target...

Random Items

My posts seem to be coming more infrequently than I intended. I must admit that the plan was to slow a little -- to not feel pressured to post something daily -- but taking it to such an extreme was not desired.

It isn't that I am writing less. In fact, I may be writing more. My Ag blog is catching more of my attention. I am writing for the paper on a weekly basis (with a few exceptions), and I am working on Billy -- although not in as disciplined manner as I should. I also have been invited to participate in a collaborative blog that will be rolled out sometime soon. I will say more about that as the plans are firmed. A number of pieces that I wrote as educational material for work are being translated into Spanish for distribution throughout Mexico and South America. In a way, that will make me an Internationally read author! Too bad it doesn't pay any extra. But, I guess as bloggers, most of us are Internationally read authors. I also have been participating (although infrequently) in the American Conservative Forum (I had to have a political outlet!).

The Presidential race has me disgusted. The only candidate that I have any positive feelings toward is Fred Thompson (you can tell from my sidebar). His race seems to be faltering -- probably from a lack of money. I hope that he pulls a surprise showing in South Carolina, but I'm not optimistic. He is the only candidate that seems to consistently represent the values that I believe to be important. What bothers me most is that there isn't really a good choice among the others -- of either party. They each terrify me although not all for the same reasons.

It seems that our President has decided that he wants to add a Middle East Peace Treaty to his legacy. The Middle East has been the focus of his Presidency since 9-11. I suppose it fits. It also fits the Armageddon scenario of the end times. If you look at the world situation closely, there are many things that fit the foreshadowing of Revelation. The environmental issues, earthquakes, famines, volcanoes, unrest, wars, China and India, the European Union, the former Soviet states, the "villainization" of some world political figures, the rise of Islam, and on and on ad nauseum. I'm not convinced that God is ready to "roll up the scroll" and be done with it -- but He could be....

On the other hand, I'm amazed to watch my son as an 11th grader in High School, totally focused on the career that he wishes to pursue in either Aerospace or Aeronautical Engineering. He and his team are building a hover craft for their physics project. I was skeptical at first but now I seriously think they have a real chance of getting it off the ground. He also is working on a program with NASA in which he is going through a series of lessons with them through the Internet that if he passes will mean a two-week all-expenses-paid trip to NASA this summer. He is also working with another student on a NASA sponsored scholarship project that includes the design of a future spacecraft. He recently received score reports from both SAT and ACT and did quite well on both -- a near-perfect score on the ACT. He has a very high natural ability in mathematics -- almost intuitive. I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up!

So much for random thoughts -- I think I will end.

Clutter

Clutter.
Sometimes I set aside
All those things that interest me
But that I am not yet ready to deal with decisively
Into piles
Waiting for further attention.

Books not read.
Notes to self.
Research material.
Things written.
Items to file.
Business cards.
Work-in-progress.

It builds until
I must attack it;
Organize it;
Dump it;
File it;
Move it;
Do it.

Is it a sign
Of a disorganized mind?
Is it a sign
Of too many interests and not enough time?
Is it a sign
Of laziness?

It is a symptom
Of priorities
Of urgencies
Of importance
Of ... OK, laziness.

Efficiency is the product of laziness for it seeks the easiest path.

The IN Crowd

As often happens, this post was inspired by our pastor David Lowrie.

It seems to be part of our nature
To want to belong to a group.
Perhaps it is something genetic
Left from the primordial soup.

Whatever does cause this behavior
Starts way down in grade school
When we want to be a part of
The kids that we all think are cool.

Even when we get to college
It is important with whom we are seen.
It is usually the star athletes
That are thought to be really keen.

For adults it isn't much better.
We want to be with the IN crowd.
We talk about who we hang out with
And often it comes out quite loud.

No matter where our life takes us
We have a desire to fit IN.
Whether it be at work, at home, or in school
Acceptance is what we would win.

There are certain INdicators
That I seek in the crowd I desire.
It is lives full of love and service
That are filled with the eternal fire

Of the Holy Spirit of God
That tells me that He dwells within
Their hearts and their lives
And that makes them the crowd that is IN.

13We know that we live in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit. 14And we have seen and testify that the Father has sent his Son to be the Savior of the world. 15If anyone acknowledges that Jesus is the Son of God, God lives in him and he in God. 16And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him. __ 1 John 4:13-16

Billy 11

The freighters sat talking for a couple of hours before turning in for the night. There was plenty of speculation about who the men were and why they might want the boy but none of them had any solid information. One of the things that stood out in the conversation was the quality and style of saddles and rigging that the men were using. Several in the group were certain that they were of Mexican origin. The men were dressed in ordinary fashion. Their pistols though were what would be termed “fancy” by most of the men. There seemed to be silver inlaid on a couple of them and all had ivory or bone handles. Such things were rare on the frontier. Most firearms carried for everyday use were fairly common in their finish.

The only one of the men who had spoken sounded like he had some kind of accent. His words were very properly delivered. Tom said that he had heard similar speech in Santa Fe and San Antonio. He thought the men might have come from Mexico.

Billy mostly just listened and asked a few questions. His mind kept racing back over the past days searching for clues in what Tad had said. He knew there was bound to be something that would help him to find the boy. The men would have a good start on him and he might have to hunt for their trail. He had a good starting point where he found the horses at the river, but he would need to wait for enough light to be certain of their direction before heading after them. The men probably wouldn’t be looking for him. In fact, if they quizzed the boy and found that he had stowed away with the freight wagons, they might not expect anyone to be following them. That could work to his advantage.


Daylight found Billy kneeling on the south bank of the Canadian River. He had found where the men apparently had left the river heading south. He was examining the tracks closely to be certain that he could recognize them. After a time he was sure that he could recognize the six distinct sets of tracks of the horses. One of them appeared to be carrying extra weight. It must be the one that had Tad. The men could have taken Tom’s horse for the boy, but they probably wanted to reduce the chances of being followed. Tom would certainly have tried to get his horse back if they had stolen it.

Tom wanted to come along on the hunt for the boy. The freighters would most likely be able to handle the wagons without him. If it hadn’t been for his wound and the weakness from loss of blood, he would certainly have joined Billy. As it was though, he loaned Billy his extra saddle gun and some shells and wished him luck. Billy was on his own which was how he liked it.


The tracks were fairly easy to follow as they headed southeast, angling slightly away from the river. It looked like they were heading in the general direction of Wild Horse Lake or maybe toward Goodnight’s place. There was also the T Anchor south of Wild Horse Lake on Spring Draw. Any of them would be places to get water for the horses. Water still determined where a man could travel on these dry plains. He could carry enough for himself, but the horses had to drink and there were only so many places they could get water.

As he rode along, Billy continually scanned the horizon for riders. The country was fairly rough all the way to Wild Horse Lake. There were plenty of places where someone could hide unobserved and watch the back trail. Even though the country was beginning to be settled, there weren’t many people. A man could ride for days and not see any other riders unless he rode up to one of the scattered ranches. Most of the Llano was still wide open. The few outfits that were taking root were on the few water courses that crossed the plains.

There were a few head of cattle scattered in the draws but not much else to be seen. Occasionally an antelope or deer would stick its head up to watch as Billy passed, but mostly it was just jackrabbits to keep him company. The monotony began to dull his senses. It was easy to think about vigilance, but it became more difficult as the heat of the day began to soak into him. It had been a dry summer and the grasses were mostly a dull gray with a coating of dust on them.

The hoof prints continued in their course to the southeast. There was no sign that they had stopped for the night. That meant they had about a twelve hour head start. He might be making up a little time on them but not much. Their horses would tire after a while and need to be rested. He had two so he could switch out occasionally and spare his own. That would work to his advantage.

Back to the southwest a few clouds had begun to build. July wasn’t known for thunderstorms, but they did occasionally happen. Billy didn’t pay them much attention.
Noon passed and still there was no variation in the trail. They appeared to be heading toward Wild Horse Lake. Where they would go from there was anybody’s guess.

By mid-afternoon, Billy began to get concerned. He thought he knew their first destination, but feared he would lose their tracks if it rained. The clouds had continued to build and a massive thunderstorm had welled up virtually covering the southern sky. Heavy rain would wipe out any tracks and he would be left searching for their trail. He also didn’t relish the idea of being stuck out in a thunderstorm. The rain wasn’t a problem it was the hail and lightening that he dreaded.

Billy 10

There was a fire blazing and the cook putting together something for the crew to eat as Billy and the other three made it back to camp. It took a while to catch the mules in the dark and get them tethered, but it wasn’t long before everyone but the night guard was gathered around talking about the events of the day. Freighting was usually extremely boring work. Most of the freighters had seen action fighting Indians and in the war so they were getting worked up about going after the men who had taken the boy. Tom was the only casualty of the brief encounter and Billy wondered why.

As the men began to eat, it quickly got quiet except for the rattle of the tin plates and mugs. Eating was serious business for the men. They knew that on the Plains, a good meal was never a sure thing. It should be eaten when the opportunity presented itself, so they wasted no time.

Finally, as he handed the cook his plate, Billy said, “OK, Tom. What happened? How did you get shot?”

Tom said, “It was my own fault. They had us cold. They gathered up our weapons in a sack and hauled them off with them. They left them about a mile down the trail. Houston had already collected them and brought them back when you rode up. They got all of them except my spare saddle gun which was in my bedroll in the cook wagon. As they were leaving, I took a chance and pulled it but one of them shot me before I could get a bead on them. I’d swear he shot high intentionally. I think he just wanted to take me out of commission without hurting me too bad. He could have killed me.”

Billy was full of questions. “Tom, you’re going to have to tell me the whole thing. I need to figure out who these men are and why they’re after the boy. Tell me everything that happened since you left Tascosa.”

Tom said, “We were a couple of hours out of Tascosa when the boy stuck his head out of the wagon. Buried under those bones like he was, it must have been beating on him pretty good as the wagons bounced along the trail. I happened to be riding beside the wagon when he looked out and I grabbed him by the arm and asked him what he was doing stowing away in my wagon. He told me there were some men after him and he needed to get out of town. I told him that I normally didn’t put up with runaways, but if he’d behave I’d let him ride with us until night camp and then we could discuss his situation further.

“We made pretty good time with only a brief stop at noon to eat a bite and check harness. We didn’t see anybody until about mid afternoon. Travis was on the lead wagon and when I talked to him around 3 o’clock, he told me he thought we were being trailed off to the north. Normally I would have thought it was just some ranch hands, but after that boy told me he had someone after him, I figured it was worth keeping an eye on.

“I rode back along the line and told everyone to keep a sharp eye out but no one saw anything else all afternoon. Then, as we topped that hill back there, they came at us from out of nowhere. Like I told you earlier, there were six of them. They came at us from both sides. I never noticed it before, but that hill is perfect for an ambush. They could hide below the bluffs on either side until all of us were over the top. There’s no place we could turn. We were trapped.

“They let Travis in the lead wagon get even with them and then one man stepped out on his horse. He had a bandanna over his face and just pointed his pistol at us but didn’t say anything. The rest of them came from the sides and were staggered so they each covered a couple of wagons. No one had a chance to grab a rifle or anything. Coming off the hill we were all busy with brakes and lines and had our hands full so we just sat there while they rode along relieving us of our weapons.

“Then, the one who stepped out first told me to get the wagons moving to the flat which is where we are now. He had us circle and then gathered us in a group. Three of them kept us covered while the others unhitched the mules and stripped the harness. Then the one who spoke before, he must have been their leader, said for us to relax, he only wanted the boy. That boy was white as a sheet and kept saying ‘do something mister, help me.’ There wasn’t anything we could do. We just stood there while two of them drove the stock off. Then the other four headed out with the boy and the sack full of our guns. That’s when I tried my fool stunt and got shot. It was the leader. He didn’t even say a word after he shot me. One of his men stepped down and picked up my rifle and they headed off. They were about as cool as I’ve ever seen. That’s about it. Nothing much happened after that but what you already know.”

In Trouble Over Slow Posting

I got in trouble Christmas.
I was told that it shouldn't take 6 months between posts on the story of Billy.
At least I know someone was reading it!

For the one or two of you who might be interested --
I'm working on it.
I will try to post another section of it within the next few days.

Message of the Day

MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL!

The Birth - With Interpretive Commentary

From Luke, Chapter 2:

1In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. 2(This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) 3And everyone went to his own town to register.
4So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. 5He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. 6While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, 7and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
8And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 9An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. 11Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. 12This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."
13Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, 14"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."
15When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."
16So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. 17When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, 18and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. 19But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. 20The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

Now, a more interpretive version:

Way back in the early days the Emperor of Rome, Caesar Augustus, became so full of himself that he thought it would be interesting to see how many people were subject to him so he decided to count them. He sent out an announcement that everyone should travel to their hometown and be counted.

So Joe and his girl Mary headed for Bethlehem to be counted. Joe was kin to King David who claimed Bethlehem as his home. Mary went with him because she was pregnant and Joe was the only one who would take care of her. She was in a tough situation because she had agreed to marry Joe before she got pregnant. Joe, being the good guy that he was, decided to go through with the marriage so Mary wouldn't get kicked out on the street.

When they got to Bethlehem they couldn't find a place to stay. Mary was going into labor and so Joe, in desperation, begged an Innkeeper to give them a place for shelter. The Innkeeper didn't have a room but sent them to the cow shed where Mary gave birth to a boy. They wrapped him in cloths and put him in the feed trough where the hay would be soft and keep him warm.

While all this was happening to Joe and Mary, an angel appeared to a bunch of sheepherders who were in a field nearby. They were just minding their business and taking care of the flock so no predators or thieves could get them. But, the angel showed up and about scared them out of their skin before saying, "Chill dudes! I'm bringing good news. You should be happy. Your Savior has just been born over in Bethlehem. Get up and go over there. He's lying in a feed trough in the stable."

When the angel had finished saying this, a whole bunch of his buddies showed up and started singing, "Glory to God in the highest! Peace y'all." And with that, they disappeared.

So, the sheepherders discussed it among themselves and decided they should head into Bethlehem to see if there really was a baby lying in a feed trough. They were having a hard time believing what they just saw and wanted proof.

Well, they went and saw him all right. It was just like the angel said. When they started telling what happened, everyone looked at them like they were crazy. But, Mary and Joe knew. In fact Mary, like most women, remembered the event in detail and verified their presence when this story all got written down.

It didn't matter to the sheepherders that no one believed them. They kept telling the story anyway. It was all so crazy it had to be true.
________________________

There are several reasons that I have re-written the story of the birth of Jesus in more common language. The first is this: It hopefully makes one think a little bit about the true conditions surrounding the event. 1) Mary was a pregnant, unwed teenager who was taken in by a good friend. 2) She rode a donkey a pretty good distance while on the verge of giving birth -- I suspect it might have hurried the process. 3) Even heartless people (the Innkeeper) occasionally show a little compassion. 4) People can be resourceful when they have to be (having a baby in a barn, wrapping him in rags, using hay to keep warm). 5) Abortion wasn't an option even for this young, teenage, unwed girl (the course of history would have changed). 6) Common people are often involved in uncommon events (Mary and Joseph, the shepherds).

The second reason is this: If you're having a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit, think about this first Christmas. Things didn't quite go like Joseph had planned. 1) I suspect he planned on staying with relatives or at the Inn. For whatever reason, it didn't work out. 2) I suspect he didn't plan on the baby being born in Bethlehem. The donkey ride probably sped up the process. 3) Joseph most likely would have preferred better conditions for Mary when the baby was born -- at least somewhere other than a barn.

The third reason is this: Miracles, belief in God, acceptance of Jesus as Savior and Messiah, will always be ridiculed -- just as the shepherds were ridiculed for their wild tale. We all should have their attitude of "so what, we believe it and we're telling it just like it happened" anyway!

The Perfect Gift

Procrastination
Drives my shopping.
I am not one
Who feels like dropping
Everything
In favor of a trip
To the store.
I put it off.

Indecision
Informs my choice
Of that perfect gift
That the commercials tell us
"Says I love you."
Because
It just isn't in me
To express my feelings
With an object.
I prefer deed.

Panic
Describes my feelings
As the day approaches
For which I am
Unprepared
After weeks
Of procrastination
And indecision
Driven shopping.
I am still at loss.

Therefore I settle for less
Than truly expresses
The agonizing desire to please
That has driven me to mental gridlock
And disappointment rather than
Met expectations
Of surprise and pleasure.
It's the thought that counts --
Right???

It's That Time of Year

Hustle and bustle,
It's that time of year
When the holiday spirit is free.
We hang up a wreath
And set candles out
Then place presents under a tree.

There's hurry and worry
And shopping to do
With lists that we have to make.
There's all sorts of things
Like candy and pie
And cookies that we need to bake.

We invite over friends
To drink some egg nogg
And talk and laugh by the fire.
But all of this cheer
Just can't do the trick
Of filling our heart's desire.

Love is the thing
That brings us the joy
Of being with family so dear.
And sometimes there's tears
For the ones who are missed
At this special time of year.

In all of our haste
To get everything done
We must not forget the reason.
It is God's only Son
Who came to earth as a babe
That's cause for celebrating the season.

Patient Persistence

Patient persistence
Leads to progress
While others in a hurry
Temporarily leap ahead
Before being sidelined for their folly

The lesson could be applied
To business
But I'm talking about
Interstate 40
And a sheet of ice.

Choices

Alone with my thoughts
I think of the day
And the choices made
Along the way.

Some I know
Were the right ones to make
While other results
Some time will take.

So many choices
Result in mistake
But I can't let the past
Cause me to hesitate.

I just keep on choosing
As at the moment seems right
While keeping my goals
Plainly in sight.

Success can be measured
By results good and bad
That come from the making
Of choices we had.

Winter Night Sky

Cold and clear
I walk into the night
Thinking hurry
To the task
For it is cold
And I seek the warmth inside
When suddenly
The quietness,

The blackness,

The brilliance,

Of stars twinkling
Overhead
Captures me
And stillness


Replaces hurry
With the realization
That I miss the show
While snug within my cave.
It is only when I venture into the cold
That I experience
This gift.

Thwarted

Black anger
Welling in the soul of my despair
Seeks vengeance
On the one by whom I am betrayed
And yet the darkness itself
Wreaks havoc
On my spirit
And hammers me with the blows
Of self demolition
As I dwell within the pit
Of my own creation
For my thoughts
Are egoistic
And not centered
In the One who can save me
From myself.

For those of you who might read too much into the brief expression above -- don't. It rises from a moment of frustration that was simply exaggerated through imagining how some might feel who are consumed with anger -- and then applying my own resolution (yet not my own, but God's) to the problem; namely, that Christ bears all burdens when we allow Him to do so. He can lift even the darkest despair from the shoulders of those who trust in Him.

Trade Show Season

Trade Show today. I don't know why, but I love doing Trade Shows. I enjoy the interaction with potential customers. I enjoy qualifying the "browsers." I enjoy selling what I do to those who are interested. I enjoy figuring out what makes people "tick." I enjoy the challenge of "unlocking" the potential customer and turning him into a customer. It's like a giant puzzle with tremendous rewards for each piece that you put into place. -- OK, I guess those are the reasons that I like doing Trade Shows.

I have two more days of this current Trade Show. I'm supposed to be at another one -- in another state -- which overlaps with this one. I will decide tomorrow whether to stay here (if it continues to be productive) or go to the other one. Next week is another show in a different state. 'Tis the season for Trade Shows, fa la la la la la la la la.....

I was pleased today when the account representative from the marketing company that we use brought a couple of her colleagues by to see our booth. She started telling them how the way we had done things was the proper way -- then she told them that I probably should be teaching classes on how to work a Trade Show. It made me feel pretty good. I kept waiting for the "shoe to drop" and hear what I wasn't doing correctly but it never came. Yeah, pretty cool.

I'm bringing one of my employees in tomorrow who has never worked a Trade Show. He has a lot of potential. It will be fun "breaking him in." We'll see how well he picks it up.

Hopefully I will get something posted on Billy before the week is out. It's "in-my-head" but I don't have it written out yet. It's difficult for me to get in the right frame of mind for that project while I'm pumped up with the Trade Show. We'll see how the week goes.

Been Gone But I'm Back

In case some of you wondered why I haven't posted in a few days, it was because we were traveling last week. We went down to the Houston area to see the in-laws. It was cool and rainy the entire time we were there.

On Saturday I gave a presentation in Bastrop for a customer. Then on Sunday we made the long drive back to the Panhandle. Just a note of interest -- from my house to Omaha, Nebraska, a couple of weeks ago was 625 miles. It was 625 miles to my in-laws house near Sealy, Texas (close to Houston). It helps to put into perspective just how big the state is.

The trip back on Sunday was a little rough. We hit snow between Rising Star and Cross Plains. The traffic was heavy and we came upon one major wreck. We finally ran out of the snow around Snyder. It really slowed the travel.

How about those Aggies??! The Big 12 certainly put a kink in all of the polls this week. And then there's Arkansas. I have a hard time rooting for the Razorbacks, but I'm please they beat LSU. I had Missouri picked to beat the Jayhawks. I've felt all along they had the better team.

This week will be busy again. I have a Trade Show in Amarillo starting tomorrow and then will drive to Wichita, Kansas, on Wednesday night for the Kansas Livestock Association annual convention. No rest for the weary.

Thanksgiving Thought

The early morning frost reminds me
Of the approaching end of year
With holidays and gathering
Of the ones that I hold dear.

It is the time of celebration
For the harvest of the fields;
It is a time of giving thanks
For the earth’s abundant yields.

As I think of all the blessings
That my family has received
I marvel that the One above
In whom I have believed

Would look upon me with such favor,
Unworthy as I am
To be honored with such blessing.
And I reflect on how He came

To earth to join in our toil
That is filled with daily strife
And that He gave His very all
That we might have eternal life.

Then I realize this is what
We should truly thank Him for –
He loved us so very much
That He opened heaven’s door

To those who would believe
In God’s only Son
Who toiled upon this earth
Until His work was done.

Now it is the harvest of
The children that He sought
And we should thank Him daily
For our lives which He has bought.

Billy - 9

Billy was headed up the trail for Tom’s wagons by mid-afternoon. He was in no hurry and hoped to catch up to them just before they camped for the night. As he rode up the trail he kept replaying the last few days with Tad in his mind. It was surprising how little he knew about the boy. Usually after several days on the trail you learned a lot about an individual – especially a kid. They liked to talk of their exploits. Not this one. It wasn’t that he was quiet – just evasive. Tad talked big, but the things he described sounded like they were out of a dime novel. Every time Billy had tried to draw him out, the boy had changed the subject.

Billy topped a rise in the trail and could see the wagons ahead of him. Something wasn’t right. The sun was just about to touch the horizon and the wagons were in the shadow of the rise on which he was standing but the light was good enough that he could tell something was wrong. He quickened his pace down the hill.

It occurred to him that there were no mules in sight and it looked like some of the mule skinners were missing. The ones that were there seemed to be hovering over something up against one of the wagons. He spurred to a lope and hurried to see what was happening.

Tom Fanning was lying against the wheel of one of the wagons with his head propped on a bedroll. There was a bloody bandage wrapped around his chest and he was breathing hard. Tom tried to sit up as Billy stepped down from his horse but didn’t seem to have much strength. It was obvious that he wasn’t in very good shape.

“What happened?” asked Billy.

The men all tried to talk at once until they heard Tom speak out in a raspy voice, “They got the boy, Billy.”

“How bad are you hurt, Tom?”

“I think it missed anything vital. I lost enough blood that I’m a bit weak. I’ll be all right though. Jake here tried to dig the bullet out and I think he did more harm than the bullet did. We got it wrapped up just before you rode in. Give me a little bit and I’ll be ready to go.”

“How long since it happened?”

“It’s probably been about an hour,” said Tom. “They ambushed us as we came over that hill up there. Six of them came at us – three from each side. They had us covered before anyone could get their rifle up.”

“Which way did they head?” asked Billy. “I’ll go after them.”

“No, you just hang on and hear me out. They drove off the mules and my horse. A couple of the boys went to look for them. I doubt they drove them very far.”

“Tom, I’ve got my horse and a spare. Why don’t you let me take one of your men with me and we’ll go see if we can find your stock before it gets dark. We’ll drive them back here for the night and then I’ll go after those men.”

“You go get the stock and then you’ll stay here tonight. You need to wait until daybreak to go after them. Those men are experienced and hard. You’ll end up getting killed in the dark if you don’t wait until morning.”

“OK, Tom. I’ll do it your way.”


Houston Davis, one of the mule skinners, rode out with Billy to find the mules and the drivers who had gone looking for them. It was no problem knowing which direction they had driven the animals, there was a wide trail to follow where the mules had been driven across the sandy ground. A couple of miles from the wagons, Billy and Houston came across the two walking drivers. They sent them back down the trail and hurried ahead while there was still enough light to see.

Another mile and they found the stock against the bank of the river where they had been abandoned by the men who had kidnapped Tad. The animals were quietly grazing on the clumps of grass along the banks. The men had apparently crossed the river to the south and left the animals on the near side. It only took a few minutes to gather them and head them back to the wagons.

They overtook the walking drivers when there was barely enough light to see. The mules ran on ahead while the four of them rode double the rest of the way.

Stuck Here

Here I am
Stuck in a motel
Wishing that I wasn't
All by myself.

Home is much better,
It's where I prefer,
Instead of stuck here
Out on the road.

It leads me to wonder
How a muscian makes it
Living out on the road
So much of their life.

As much as the wanderlust
Fills up my life
I still need an anchor
A place to call home.

Instead I am stuck here
Out on the road
About twenty-four hours
From home.

Ethanol's Tangled Web

The article below is one that I recently had published in our local paper. I have posted it on my Common Sense Agriculture, Conservation and Energy blog but not here. Several readers have mentioned to me that they are interested in ethanol and so I am re-posting the article here.

Direct subsidies by the U.S. government to gasoline blenders are $0.51/gallon of ethanol. In 2006, the total of these subsidies was $2.5 billion. Such subsidies are the reason behind the ethanol boom that we are experiencing. In 2006, ethanol production earned our country an approximately 1.5% oil independence. According to the USDA, at the maximum practical production level which is likely to be achieved by 2017, corn ethanol would provide 3.7% oil independence.

Ethanol has been around since the first “moonshiner” discovered how to distill corn into whiskey. It is the same thing as 200 proof whiskey. It was used by Henry Ford to power some of the first Model T’s. Today it is fueling a euphoric corn market that has seen prices soar above $3.50/bushel. It has also sent turmoil through the livestock markets as feeders adjust to the realities of higher commodity prices.

The USDA estimates that ethanol yields about 25% more energy than is required to produce it. Most of the energy gain is in the form of co-products available for feed. If you measure the energy equivalence of the ethanol itself, it takes about as much energy to produce it as it yields. One gallon of ethanol contains about 2/3 of the energy of a gallon of gasoline. This means that if your vehicle achieved 30 mpg with gasoline, it would achieve only 20 mpg burning pure ethanol.

Ethanol co-products make excellent cattle feed for inclusion in feedlot rations. Some studies indicate that Wet Distiller’s Grains contain 100-112% of the value of dry rolled corn. Dry Distiller’s Grains however are only about 88% of the feed value of dry rolled corn. In the larger feedlots that primarily utilize steam-flaked corn, the comparative feed value is much lower. That is why the cost of the co-products will be one of the primary determining factors driving its use as a substitution for feeding corn in livestock rations.

One of the most controversial issues surrounding the production of ethanol from corn revolves around concerns over the impact to food prices. Most of the corn produced in the United States is utilized as animal feed. Rising corn prices have already had a significant impact on the cost of feeding livestock.

Most planting decisions are at least somewhat based on relative commodity prices of various crops that are feasible for planting in a particular area. In areas where corn is a viable alternative, significant crop acreage is being shifted to corn production at the expense of other crops. The effect is to lift commodity prices for all crops that are being replaced by corn production. Again, the primary impact will be on crops that are destined for animal feed, such as soybeans and other grains.

As ethanol production capacity increases, the pressure on substituting ethanol fuel crops for other commodities will increase. The result will certainly be upward pressure on the prices of food crops due to the scarcity impact on supply and demand.

Should we be concerned? The U.S. consumer pays a smaller percentage of his income for food (less than 10%) than consumers in any other part of the world (20 – 50% for middle income countries). In countries that struggle at a subsistence level of farming, there will be pressure to divert land utilization for ethanol fuel production. The impact on such economies will depend on government policies related to land ownership and control of production. In some instances, it could help to lift economies above subsistence level by creating the opportunity for higher revenue crops.

Ethanol is only a tiny piece of the energy puzzle. It is a tiny piece that is creating turmoil across the globe in the agricultural sector. Turmoil generally creates opportunities for some and failure for those who do not adapt to changes in the marketplace. It is hoped that new technologies for producing ethanol from plant fibers rather than highly concentrated energy sources such as corn will transform ethanol production in the near future. In the meantime, we can expect commodity prices to remain high which will hopefully be a boon to our rural economy.

Related articles:

http://agriconenergy.blogspot.com/2007/09/sweet-sorghum-ethanol.html

http://agriconenergy.blogspot.com/2007/09/energy-vs-food-ii.html

http://agriconenergy.blogspot.com/2007/09/grants-for-biomass-energy-research.html

http://agriconenergy.blogspot.com/2007/09/bio-fuels-research-will-have-many.html

http://agriconenergy.blogspot.com/2007/09/advanced-biofuels-research.html

http://agriconenergy.blogspot.com/2007/09/georgia-tech-biofuels-research.html

http://agriconenergy.blogspot.com/2007/10/microbes-for-hydrogen-production.html

http://agriconenergy.blogspot.com/2007/11/food-vs-fuel-debate-another-round.html

http://agriconenergy.blogspot.com/2007/11/ethanol-environmental-manual.html

Billy - 8

The first leg of the Dodge City trail ran northeast to Little Blue Station at Silas Maley’s farm on Bluff Creek. It would take about three days for the mule-drawn wagons to reach there. The entire trip to Dodge City would take several weeks for the wagons. Billy didn’t plan on staying with the wagons.

After replenishing his pack at the general store, Billy headed over to where Tom was waiting for him and said, “Tom, you go on ahead and I’ll catch up shortly. I want to visit with Henry a minute.”

As the noise of the leaving wagons died down, Billy turned to Henry and said, “Do you have a horse you can spare? I need to buy a horse and rigging before I head out.”


There was no rush for Billy to hurry and catch the wagons. At their slow pace of travel he could easily wait around Tascosa for most of the day before heading after them. He didn’t plan on taking that long but he did want to visit with a few folks around town and find out what he could about the men who had been asking about the boy. The logical place to start was McCormick’s saloon.

McCormick’s was one of the oldest of the several saloons that lined Tascosa’s streets. It was typical for the time. It had been built quickly of lumber freighted in from Las Vegas. Billy didn’t expect to find any customers at the early hour but he hoped to visit with one of the bartenders. It was likely they would be cleaning the place getting ready for another night of harvesting the hard-earned dollars from the local cowboys and hangers-on.

Billy was fortunate that Tuff Hardeman was there. Tuff was polishing off some glasses as Billy walked through the door. He looked up and said, “we’re closed.”

Billy replied, “Tuff, is that any way to treat somebody you haven’t seen in nearly a year?”

“Billy McCall. You sure must have picked up some bad habits to be coming in here at this hour of the morning. Where’ve you been?”

“New Mexico. I’ve been riding some for Pete Maxwell over at Fort Sumner. How are you?”

“Never better. Business is booming, there’s talk we’re going to be the county seat, and I even heard we might get a railroad. Can I buy you a drink?”

“No thanks, Tuff. I’m just lookin’ for some information.”

“OK. What do you want to know?”

“Has there been anybody new in town -- maybe someone askin’ lots of questions?”

“As a matter of fact there was,” said Tuff. “I didn’t know ‘em, but one of Tom’s freighters said he thought they were from over around Fort Griffin. They were asking about some boy. It wasn’t you was it? Heh, heh – you still got that baby face of yours hiding under that mustache.”

“Nope it wasn’t me. But I think I might know who they were looking for. Did they say why they were looking?”

“They said the boy stole something from them and they just wanted to get it back. They wouldn’t say what it was though.”


Billy visited with Tuff a little longer and then headed back over to the general store. Bob Bassinger might have heard something. Everyone that came to town eventually stopped at Bob’s store for some kind of supplies.

After quizzing him thoroughly, Billy learned that Bob didn’t have anything new to add to what he had learned at McCormick’s. The results at a couple of the other saloons and the livery were the same. The men hadn’t stayed in town long and no one seemed to know them. They couldn’t have been part of the Dodge City gang of Hoodoo Brown because most of them were well known and frequent visitors to Tascosa. The one thing that Billy did learn was that the men were well organized and on a couple of occasions made reference to el corazon de Cristo – the Heart of Christ.

Cell Phone Ettiquette

One of the most annoying things
Is for a speaker to be interrupted
By a cellphone going off
In the middle of a presentation.

No, annoying isn't the proper word.
Rude would be a better description.
Sometimes I want to just walk over,
Grab the phone and stomp it to pieces.

Almost every program nowdays
Begins with the admonition
"Please turn all cell phones
And pagers to off or to silent."

And yet, they ring anyway.
No, they don't ring. They blare out
"The Imperial March" from Star Wars,
Or some other personal ringtone.

It's never a quiet ring.
It's always turned as loud as possible --
That's for old folks like me
Who need it turned up to hear it.

It just drives me crazy.
The phone rings,
The speaker pauses,
People look around --

Oops. I guess I forgot to turn mine off.....

Digression

It is been difficult to get to blogging lately. It is partly the result of travel, work, social and family demands -- not necessarily in that order -- and attitude. I've just had a hard time wanting to sit down and blog.

I have been continuing to work on "Billy" but not in a disciplined fashion as I had intended. I can usually tell when something is worthwhile because there are suddenly a million things trying to pull me away. That seems to be the case here.

I attended a great conference in Omaha, Nebraska, this past week. The focus of the conference was the impact of ethanol on the beef industry. I will probably be posting some things from the conference in my "Common Sense Agriculture, Conservation and Energy" blog over the coming weeks. I think though, to sum it up, ethanol is here to stay, get used to it. Those who adjust to the new economic realities will thrive and those who don't will fail.

It seems that is the way with everything. As society/culture/economies/knowledge, etc. advance, things are destroyed and new things arise. Hopefully the new is better than the old. Sometimes I doubt it. My optimistic side says that we are advancing. We must always be vigilant however to see that we advance in the proper direction.

Billy - 7

The quiet creaking of the barn door awakened Billy. He could see the furtive figure of Tad slipping silently out into the moonlight. He lay back on his blankets and thought about what might be going through the boy’s mind.

After giving him a couple of minutes to get away, Billy quietly rose and slipped on his boots. He wanted to see which way Tad went. The boy hadn't taken the mule so he had to be on foot.

Peering through the door he could see the shadowy figure slowly fading into the dark toward the river. It looked like he was headed to town. Tomorrow would be soon enough for Billy to try and locate him. There weren’t many places that Tad could hide. More than likely he would try to slip on a freight wagon heading for Dodge City. That would be the best place to try and find him.


Billy rose the next morning when he could hear the faint sounds of clattering pans in the adobe up the hill. Lucinda was up and about cooking breakfast. Soon there would be a call to come and get it but in the meantime Billy decided to slip down to the river and see if he could make certain which way Tad’s tracks led.

It took only a few minutes to see that the boy had definitely headed toward town. The crossing down stream was plenty shallow so it shouldn’t have been difficult for Tad to get over to the other side and into Tascosa. He headed up to the house for a breakfast of eggs, beans and tortillas. It sure was nice to have some good home cooking after being on the trail for the last couple of weeks.

After they had eaten, Juan asked, “How do you plan on finding him Billy?”

“Are there any freighters in town?” he asked in return.

“I think Fernandez may be there. He’s taking the last load of wool to Las Vegas. Tom Fanning is there too. He came in yesterday from south of here with a load of buffalo bones. He’ll be heading to Dodge City with them. That’s about it,” said Juan.

“It would probably be easier for him to slip in with Fernandez to Las Vegas but I have a hunch he’s headed for Dodge. I think I’ll see if I can find Fanning and have him watch out for the boy. I might even see if he’ll let me ride with him to Dodge. Is it OK if I leave that old mule with you? In fact he’s yours. Maybe you can put some meat on him.”


Finding Tom Fanning was no problem. There were five wagons loaded with the bleached white buffalo bones already hitched and lined up in front of the livery. Tom was bellering something about how long it took to shoe a mule to a mountain of a man that could only be Henry Kimball. Henry was the first white man to settle in Tascosa. He had set up shop in 1876 shortly after Romero completed his rambling adobe.

Billy walked up to Tom and said, “Hey, old man. You look like you’ve been robbing graves with all those bones.”

“Well, Billy McCall. How are you boy? I ain’t seen you since you got into that little scrape in Las Vegas a couple of years ago. What have you been up to?”

“I’ve been keeping my nose clean and my saddle polished Tom – just bouncing around a few outfits chasing cows,” replied Billy. “Can you walk over to the store with me a minute and let Henry finish his job without you yelling at him?”

“Sure, Billy. What’s up?”


The two walked down the street past McCormick’s saloon to the general store. Billy filled in Tom about Tad and asked if he’d seen the boy.

Tom said, “Yeah, I seen him. He doesn’t know I did but I seen him. He’s in that third wagon under a pile of bones. I thought I’d get up the trail a ways and then surprise him. I was gonna make sure he had a good walk back to town.”

“Tom, I think this boy is in some trouble and I want to help him. Is it all right if I tag along with you toward Dodge and we’ll flush him out tonight when we make camp?”

“Sure, Billy. Have you got your gear ready? I’d like to head out just as soon as Henry gets that mule shod.”

“Give me a few minutes here in the store Tom. I’m a little low on a couple of things but I’ll probably be ready before your mule is.”

New Picture

Hopefully some of you out there have noticed the new picture in my header. It is compliments of the creative talents of Hillbilly Willy. If I understand correctly, he merged the poet leaning against the fence into the background scene. I appreciate him sharing it with me. I don't know if he's planning to enter the market as a graphic artist, but you never know. Y'all drop by and give him a shout.

Billy - 6

Tad reluctantly headed for the barn where they could hear him muttering and shifting things around.

Billy said, “What do you think Juan? Is he going to stay the night or make a run for it?”

“I think he will run for it. Then, what will you do? Will you go after him or let him make his own way?”

Billy thought a minute before he replied, “What can you tell me about these men who are looking for him?”

“Not much,” replied Juan. “Ben Sublette, the freighter, says he thinks they are part of The Dodge City Gang out of Las Vegas, New Mexico. He says there are a couple of bad hombres in the bunch.”

“It could be. They were ran out of Las Vegas just last month. I had heard they were headed for Mexico but they might have come this way. That Hoodoo Brown is sure a bad one. They were robbing stagecoaches and settlers on the old trail. Hmm,” said Billy. “I wonder why a bunch like that would be interested in the boy. Do you suppose he might have fallen in with them?”

“I doubt it,” said Juan. “More than likely he has something on them. Maybe he saw something they didn’t want him to see. Now tell me Billy, where did you find that boy?”

“I found him down on Spring Lake. I’ve been over at Fort Sumner working for Pete Maxwell.”

“Ah, and how is Doña Luz?”

“She is well, Juan. Didn’t you once work for Lucien?”

“I didn’t actually work for him, but I lived on his land. He would protect us and buy our wool and we would share part of it with him. Don Luciano was a good man. He’s been gone now – what? -- five years? I hope his son Pete is half the man he was.”

“I didn’t know Señor Maxwell, but Pete is a good man too. I helped him through the spring branding. He didn’t have much else to do so I cut loose from there and was headed over to casas amarillas. Pete said he had heard that Colonel Slaughter was driving a herd up from Big Spring and I was going to try to intercept him. When I got to Spring Lake I ran into the boy. I decided it would be better to head up here to Tascosa where I could leave the boy with somebody. Besides, maybe one of the big outfits around here is hiring.”

“Did he tell you why he was at Spring Lake?”

“He said he had been working for Charlie Goodnight and decided to light out for the Seven Rivers country. He claimed his horse stepped in a prairie dog hole and broke its leg. That’s why he was afoot. Every time I’d try to get more information out of him he would change his story. I knew from the start that he was hiding something, I just didn’t know what. He wasn’t even taking the most logical trail. He should have come through here and over to Las Vegas and then south down the Pecos to Anton Chico and Fort Sumner.”

Juan replied, “We still don’t know what he’s hiding Billy. We may never know. So, what will you do if he runs off during the night?”

“I think I’ll follow him if I can,” said Billy. “Once upon a time I needed someone to help me get through some trouble. Maybe I can repay the favor that was done for me by helping this boy.”

“Yes, I remember the story,” said Juan. “Maybe it is your fate to pass on to this boy the blessing that you received. Let’s turn in for the night. Tomorrow may be a long day.”

Billy - 5

The draw that Billy and Tad had been following passed just to the west of Juan Garcia’s barn. It was fairly shallow by the time it reached the river at the base of the slope and could easily be seen from Juan’s adobe which perched on a slight rise that kept it above the flood plain. Juan was standing on the porch watching as Billy and the boy made their way to the corrals and led their mounts to the water trough.

With the sun setting behind them, it was difficult for Juan to see them well but he called out, “Billy, is that you?”

“Yeah, Juan, it’s me. Do you mind if we turn these flea bags into your corral?”

“Go ahead,” he called back. “Wash up. Lucinda has supper almost ready.”


Billy looked at the boy and said, “Tad, let’s get some grub in us. I don’t see those riders anywhere around so maybe they were lookin’ for somebody else. What do you think?”

“I think I’m hungry. That piece of jerky didn’t last very long. I hope they have something besides beans and tortillas,” he replied.

“Now you be careful of your attitude. These are nice people. They don’t have much but they’re willing to share. Be sure and show some gratitude for whatever they offer. Otherwise, you can have another piece of jerky and muddy river water for supper.”


The two made their way up to the house where Billy introduced Tad to Juan and his family. Besides his wife Lucinda, there were five children. The oldest was Juanita who would celebrate her Quincienera this year. She was turning into a beautiful young lady who would have all the boys calling on her in a few months. Billy thought he might call on her too.

Lucinda had Billy and Tad join Juan at the table while she had the children sit on blankets near the cooking area. She and Juanita served the men large plates of beans with a choice piece of mutton and stacks of tortillas before joining the children. It wasn’t necessarily customary for the women and children to eat separately. It was a matter of space. The home was small and there wasn’t enough room at the table for everyone to sit.


When they had finished eating Juan said to Billy and Tad, “Let’s go out on the porch where it is cool and we can talk.”

After a pleasant exchange of news, Juan looked at Billy and said, “Some men have been in town asking about a boy that sounds a lot like Tad here. They say he stole something of theirs and they want it back. They are offering a reward of $50 in gold.”

Billy looked at Tad and said, “OK, Tad. It’s time you came clean with me. Are those men looking for you?”

Tad said, “I didn’t steal nothing Billy. Honest. I don’t know what they want.”

“Come on Tad. We’re nearly partners after riding together for four days. You’re gonna have to tell me why they’re looking for you.”

“I can’t Billy. If they find out I told anybody they’ll kill me.”

“Told anybody what? What is it you can’t tell or they’ll kill you. How can I help you if I don’t know what’s going on,” said Billy.

“I just can’t tell you,” said Tad, “that’s all.”

Juan looked at Billy with a wink and said, “Billy, maybe it’s none of our business. Those men will be in town tomorrow. We’ll just take Tad to them and be done with it. Fifty dollars is a lot of money.”

“You know Juan, maybe you’re right. We could split it. Maybe it’s a good thing I couldn’t get that old pastorale to keep him.”

Tad was fidgeting as the two talked. It was obvious that he wanted to tell them what was going on but was afraid.

Billy looked at Tad and said, “I’ll tell you what, you sleep on it tonight and in the morning you can decide whether to tell us or not. You and I will bunk in the barn.”

Juan said, “Tad, why don’t you go get settled in for the night. There’s plenty of loose straw in the barn that you can spread your blankets on. I want to visit with Billy for awhile before we turn in for the night.”

Billy - 4

Billy sat down in the shade of a Hackberry that had taken root in the side of the hill. He could see the riders in the distance and he could see the silvery line of the Canadian river off to the north. It would be awhile before the riders reached the jumble of adobe buildings on the north side of the river where Casimero Ramirez had settled in 1876 and Plaza Atascosa was born. That was the same year that Billy had left Missouri.

It was also the same year that Charlie Goodnight had moved his herd into the Palo Duro Canyon. Some of the cowboys said that Goodnight was forming a Stockman’s Association. He and the other ranchers were tired of losing cattle to the little ranchers who they claimed were branding mavericks from their herds. There was certainly some truth to their claim. How else could a cowboy working for $25 per month end up owning a spread covering several thousand acres?

Just a couple of miles to the west of the ford and on the south side of the river, Billy could see Juan’s place. There wasn’t much to it, just a small adobe with a barn and corrals for his sheep.

Juan had followed Ramirez out of New Mexico to graze the open lands along the Canadian river. Romero was a Comanchero and leading citizen of Mora, New Mexico, before moving his herds to the Texas Panhandle and establishing a new town. He brought around 3,000 sheep with him and they had now increased to almost 5,000 head. His relationship with the local ranches was never secure, but they had learned to live in peace together. There was still plenty of open range available for grazing.

As Billy watched, two more riders headed south across the ford out of Tascosa. It looked like they were going to intercept the riders that he was watching. It seemed strange to Billy. Normally in this open country you didn’t run across many other riders unless you were on one of the main trails. The trails here ran mainly along the river except for the big freight trail headed north out of Tascosa to Dodge City.

The riders he had been watching picked up their pace a little when they saw that they were being met. It looked as though they were expecting it. They quickly drew together and the four of them appeared to be having a heated discussion. He could see the riders that he had been watching pointing in his general direction. It didn’t look good.

It wasn’t long before the group broke up. The pair that he had watched were headed back the direction from which they came. The other two riders headed off to the west up the river. Billy couldn’t think of any reason why, but it looked as though they might be going to circle around him so that he and the kid would be trapped. You could probably chalk it up to four years of wariness over his past, but Billy had found his intuition on such things was usually pretty good.

Billy scrambled back down the slope to where Tad was standing and watching him. He said, “I think those riders are looking for someone and it could be us. Do you know any reason they might have for that?”

Tad looked a little pale but said, “No. I can’t imagine why anyone would be looking for me. Are you an outlaw or something?”

“No, I’m not an outlaw and it may be nothing, but I think we’d better follow this draw and try to stay out of sight. Maybe we can make it to Juan’s before anyone spots us. I’m not in any mood to be answering a bunch of questions from those fellows if they do come across us. Get on that mule and lets get moving.”

The draw provided a small amount of cover for the two as they headed down the slope toward Juan’s place. If their luck held they might not be spotted. It was getting close to sundown and in another thirty minutes the light would start to fade. If those riders weren’t looking for them there would be no harm done. If they were, it would be better to be closer to town so that someone might see them if the riders meant harm.

As they got lower on the slope the danger of being seen would be from behind. If the riders were to get up on the bluff, they would be able to look back toward the river and see them in the draw.

Billy couldn’t help but wonder about the strange behavior of the riders. He couldn’t think of why anyone would be looking for him but he wasn’t sure about the kid. Tad’s behavior had been a little bit suspicious. Why had he been all alone when the horse he had been riding broke his leg? He was too young to be out by himself without someone missing him.

Billy had tried to get the boy to tell him a little about himself but hadn’t had much luck. He was hiding something. His story was consistent, but any time he pressed the boy with questions, he would change the subject. Billy felt sure there was a connection between those riders and the boy. He just needed time to sort it out to make sure he landed on the right side of the issue. He didn’t want to be turning the boy over to someone that meant him harm if it wasn’t well deserved. This country was still pretty lawless. There wasn’t much telling whether the riders had honorable intentions or otherwise.

What Famous Leader Are You?

I took the quiz and this was the result. Interesting.

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Now it's your turn.