What was the name of the tallest mountain in the world before they discovered Mt. Everest? Mt. Everest. That bad boy was the highest before and after it was discovered. Are you ready for another one? Okay, what word does every dictionary spell wrong? W-r-on-g. I usually try to have a joke or a riddle or two ready for the grandkids when they visit or when we visit them. The trouble is, they are planning to be in Iowa over the Thanksgiving holiday to celebrate with that branch of their family tree. That’s why I have to get these items printed up before they leave my mind. Once Thanksgiving has come and gone, who knows when we’ll get together. Someone once told me, “Peters, you’ve got a mind like a steel trap. Nothing gets in and nothing gets out.” I’ll spin that by agreeing that I’m very dependable.

Now that the mid term elections are history, is it safe to watch TV again? The polls closed on Tuesday evening and after the votes were counted and the results were clear, I think it may have been a half hour or so before they started talking about the effect 2018 would have on the 2020 election. Give me a break. I mean that literally, give me a break. I can stand only so much politics.

Greg Gemar coaches the Scotland school golfers. He was always open to anyone who wanted to contribute their extra golf balls to the school so that the kids would have plenty to practice with. Now that Dawson Creek Golf Course is no longer under water, he told me how many pails of golf balls he was able to pick up, and we are talking five gallon pails. I have to admit I was rather envious. I like to think of my self as the ‘Prince of golf ball Scroungers’ but I can’t compete with that. I considered putting on my old five-buckle overshoes and seeing how many balls I could find in the corn field that borders the golf course just to give him some competition. Then I stopped and thought, “Wait a minute. I’ve got a pail or so full of golf balls myself which means I’ll be hitting used ones forever.” There is no way I will ever lose them all. In the spirit of the season, I think I’ll offer to help Greg scrub them and clean them up. I’ve done that enough so that I am pretty good at it.

Dave Dudley sings a song entitled ‘This is My Last Day in the Mine,’ and since it is a country song, it has a sad ending. The guy was going to quit and on his last day, there was a cave in. I like the song, and now I can identify with it since I am counting down to the end of December and my last column. I hope to have a happier ending. In the meantime, I want to compliment and thank the area schools on their observances of Veterans Day. My time in the service had the usual ups and downs and even though it’s been a long time ago, it is still much appreciated to be remembered.

When we have an early deadline for the paper, my extended outlook is not too specific. I’m not sure what the forecast should be, but I join with almost everybody in hoping for another stretch of Indian Summer.