Diary of Jan. 15, 2020
In this post-holiday season and with apologies to Perry Como and the Fontaine Sisters who sang the Christmas standard “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” we’d like to make an unrhythmic play on the song’s title.
The farm program choices that are part of the 2018 Farm Bill have been discussed for a long time, and the time to make the initial farm program decisions for 2019 and 2020 has arrived.
In a move that surprised most grain marketing experts, USDA increased the estimated final 2019 U.S. average yields for both corn and soybeans in its Jan. 10 crop production report.
The Economic Research Service of the USDA has extended its data extraction tool back to 1929 and provides data in nominal dollars (the prices farmers saw at the time) as well as real dollars (inflation adjusted dollars).
A cow’s wet tail swat was a much more effective wakeup call than an alarm clock after a night that went without sleep past midnight. Mother’s attempt to pry us out of bed began with a mild shout from the base of the stairs and increased in volume until she threatened to climb the stairs with…
We awoke this morning to a world of white. The ground is covered with snow and it is still snowing and blowing outside. After some mild weather during the Christmas holiday, we are now getting some real winter weather. We cannot control the weather, so we accept what we are given.
The gallon jug of Mogen David wine squirreled away beneath the kitchen sink was an annual Christmas gift from Roe and Al, mother’s farming bachelor brothers. She baked cookies for them to take home and filled their coffee cups while they reminisced about former days and ways.
When readers of this weekly effort take the time to write me a letter or email, it’s a safe bet they want to have the final word on whatever riled them to write. I’m fine with that.
Our family Christmas is over for this year. We will still get together with my sisters for a Christmas gift exchange and meal. This year it will be at sister Emma and Jacob’s house.
Snowmobile poker runs were special occasions in the neighborhood in the 1970s when winter reached its deepest depths. During a run, participants stopped at a few establishments along the route and collected a playing card or two at each one.