Larned was the site of a large farm auction this past weekend. Farm trucks parked everywhere; big machines, little tractors and 4 wheelers, campers, boats, implements, tires, food!
My extrovert side loves these events. I take it all in! These events are like male adult carnivals; a men’s toy store; a chance for guys to chew on a piece of straw or a plug of tobacco, and hang out.
The aromas of bar-b-que, chants of the auctioneer, and taste of a hot dog bring back memories, always.
We watched a bus, a stock trailer, and a camper get sold. I leaned against a circle apparatus that I understand is called a “disc”.
What are all these machines used for? Good thing our 7-year-old grandson was at my side explaining what each implement did. However, I warned him not to wave his arms. I didn’t want to bring a “header” home with me. What is a “header” anyway?
There must have been 3,000 farmer/rancher guys gathered on the property. Do you know how I knew that they were farmers? Easy. First, they all wear ball caps, and they wear them beak-front. I didn’t see one rancher/farmer guy with his cap on backwards, and believe me, I looked everywhere. Some wore sunglasses on their faces. The glasses were not propped on the backs of their heads. Goodness. Don’t they know the fashions?
These guys all wore jeans. There was not a pair of shorts to be seen. The old guys were sporting bib overalls. They were the ones leaning against the implements, watching. The young, jean crowd gathered around the auctioneer. The old guy was the one with the money; the young crowd; the ones with the energy.
Boots were the foot attire. Adidas and Nike didn’t show up. Most of the boots looked worn and tired. That’s a good sign, I’d say. I didn’t see any “dandies” there. “Dandies” are guys dressed in the same kind of clothes, although everything is ironed and crisp, polished and clean.
We met up with an area farmer, Willie, who wanted to talk about my “Raccoon” column. I like Willie. He always has a nice thing to say about these columns.
Willie related that his wife, Constance, recently went outside to feed her cats. She encountered a large raccoon feasting on the cats’ food. He was a bold raccoon, and not afraid of her. Constance grabbed a broom and began to sweep at the critter to get out of there. He retaliated, and grabbed the broom handle with his powerful teeth. She pulled, but he wouldn’t relinquish the broom.
This would be a contest to the bitter end.
She held on. He wouldn’t concede.
Finally, she grabbed her flashlight and conked him soundly on his stubborn raccoon head.
That’ll teach him to let go. Oops. Too late. She killed him.
This gal is a tribute to wives everywhere; fearless, aggressive, passionate, and protective! Yes, Willie. Go Constance!
We left Willie and walked back down the “midway.”
“Let’s get a hot dog,” suggested Fred.
“Good idea,” I commented. Fun day.
Wish there was cotton candy!
Judi Tabler lives in Pawnee County and is a guest columnist for the Great Bend Tribune. She can be reached at email@example.com or juditabler@awomansview.