@Storm5farms Very similar to our old family photos. Interesting how no one is overweight?
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Roger
1K posts
@TheDailyDraught It’s a good whiskey, but a horrible bourbon. So, there’s that.
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@rclaypool56 Seed treatment buildup from the treater where we picked seed up from.
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When your planter stops planting on a row or two and yo find this in the manifold. That’s no moon rock either…
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After a couple months of exhaustive job searching, I am pleased to announce that I have accepted a new position in McDonough, GA. This is a big step in our relocation to Georgia to be closer to the family! I figured this called for cracking open the GTS!🥃 ⚠️⚠️⚠️
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The Canteen in Ottumwa where my grandparents lived has a loose meat sandwich
Very yummy 😋
Not called a Maid Rite but very similar
share.google/PrDV36EfS5kNYe…
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These are nerve racking times for parents. It feels impossible to know what to steer your kids toward when so many skills and professions could be obsolete someday soon.
So honestly if you just focus on raising them right…by molding them into hard working well‑rounded based Chads, then they’re gonna be aight.
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@Lee_in_Iowa A Des Moines teacher, go figure. Between the local TV and DSM Register—TDS is rampant there.
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I need a new roof—and guess what my contractor told me.
With diesel at $5.+, contractors can’t afford to work— getting supplies (costs up because of delivery also requiring fuel) is dicey and traveling to job sites around Iowa is breaking his business.
#TrumpsGasPrices
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@FarmrHuntr @SamaHoole Really anything they want, they can jump a fence to whatever they desire!
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The American deer camp was, between approximately 1880 and 1990, the autumn ritual of every rural family in the upper Midwest, the Northeast, and the Appalachians.
A cabin in the woods. Three or four men, three generations sometimes, who got there on the Friday before opening day, lit the wood stove, drank coffee that had been on the burner since 4am, played cards, told the same stories they had told the year before, and went out at first light on Saturday with rifles their grandfathers had owned.
A buck taken cleanly with one shot. Field-dressed in the snow. Hung in the woodshed. Butchered the next weekend in the garage with the family. Forty pounds of venison in the chest freezer. Steaks for the winter. Sausage made by the grandfather with a recipe nobody had written down. A roast for Thanksgiving. The hide tanned and turned into mittens for the youngest grandson.
The deer was free. The freezer was full. The boys learned to shoot, to clean a rifle, to gut an animal, to butcher it, to thank the woods for the deer, to be quiet for hours at dawn in the cold and notice things.
Roughly 14 million Americans hunted in 1980. By 2020 that number was 11.5 million, and the average hunter age had risen from 35 to 51. The next generation is not coming up.
Suburbanization removed the woods from the back door. Liability fears closed private lands. Public hunting access shrank. Time pressure on working families killed the long weekend at camp. The cultural drift made hunting socially suspect, then unfashionable, then, in some quarters, taboo.
The number of American teenagers who have ever fired a rifle, gutted an animal, or watched their grandfather butcher a deer in the garage on a November Sunday afternoon is, in 2026, statistically vanishing.
The freezer that used to be full of free, lean, grass-fed wild protein is full of ground beef from a Smithfield CAFO in Iowa.
The skill is one generation deep. If the grandfather did not pass it to the father, and the father did not pass it to the son, the chain is broken. YouTube is, at the moment, where the few remaining young hunters are getting most of their training.
A small American tradition that fed families for a century, taught a sequence of practical and moral lessons no textbook can replace, and connected three generations to the land their ancestors lived on, is closing down quietly, camp by camp, season by season.
The cabin is still there. The stove still works. The buck is still in the woods.
The grandfather is in the cemetery on the hill above the cabin. He cannot take the boy himself.
Somebody else has to.
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@LakeBoss I own that one. Never stays stable, constantly have to replant the legs in the ground.
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I grew up in rural Iowa, a town of 800 people, my dad was a Korean era Army Vet, he taught me to hunt, and fish and respect the land. He taught me that hard work made a man. He was a high school principal and owned a sawmill, he taught me the value of hard work. I miss him.
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@dirtcheapbanks First mistake I’ve caught you! You’re not drinking whiskey, you’re savoring some fine bourbon!!
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My Friday night consists of drinking whiskey, reading call reports of small banks and ignoring my wife.
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@BuffaloRon She looks much younger than the numbers in her hands! Like me, you outkicked your coverage! 😎
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1965 Chevy SS 350, I’d love to have one! What got my attention was the $64.25 Delivery Charge 😂 Probably couldn’t fill it up for that today
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@ThrillaRilla369 Tang. We drank Tang and paired it with graham crackers.
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If you were raised on bologna, drank Pepsi, played in the dirt, got your butt spanked, had 3 TV channels & had an outside antenna, school started with "The Pledge", had a bedtime, rode in back of pickup trucks, recorded songs from the radio using cassette tapes, drank from a hose, played in the creek, said sir and ma'am... and you still turned out OK, say damn right
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@ellen101893 @ThrillaRilla369 Sorta freaks me out thinking about an entire cup of sugar in every pitcher, us kids often consumed two pitchers on a hot day!
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@ThrillaRilla369 It was kool aid. Pepsi was too expensive. Red dye and all. Cups of sugar. I was the kool kid. 😆😆
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