“Bohemian Concrete. That’s what we’re going to need,” said one of my farmer friends. Boy, I hadn’t heard that expression since I don’t know when. It means that we’ll need the ground to freeze up hard enough to support all of the equipment when we start harvesting again. When will that be? I honestly hate to even venture a guess. There should be some combines rolling late this week on well drained ground as we return to sunnier days with high temps in the low sixties. I can hardly wait.

I admit that I don’t pay a great deal of attention in the day to day forecast so occasionally, I receive a surprise when I step outside first thing in the morning. That’s what happened Sunday. There on the ground lay a good four to six inches of heavy, wet snow. Did anyone predict that stuff? If nothing else, there should be general agreement as to the date of the first snowfall for the ‘l8-19’ winter. Another thing that we can agree on is that you have to very careful if you are driving on that heavy, wet snow, especially if you are the first one out on the road. Here is what happened to us:

We were driving through Wyoming on the way to Idaho for Marianne’s father’s funeral. We stayed overnight in a motel located about the middle of Wyoming. When we got up the next morning, there was a four inch blanket of snow. We were the first ones on the road and we were not too far out of town when the tires climbed up on top of the snow, and we were hydroplaning. “Slow down Marianne! What are you doing?” I cried. At least that is what I would have yelled if Marianne had been driving. Unfortunately, I was behind the wheel and it was Marianne who was yelling for me to stop the car. Believe me, I tried, but I was completely helpless. Turning the steering wheel did nothing. Applying the brakes did nothing. We just floated along, going where ever the terrain and gravity took us, including a short stretch down the wrong side of the highway on that two lane road. We finally went off the road backward, through the shallow ditch, and into a pile of rocks. By golly, that stopped us.

We finally got towed back into town and to a garage. The mechanic there looked it over, and shook his head. “You can probably drive it to Idaho and back, home but the frame is sprung and with the other damage, there is probably no fixing it.” Well shoot, he was right on all counts. We made it back home okay, but those were the last miles we put on the old Mercury. That was a case of wanting to curse the bad luck but also to thank goodness that we were still alive and unhurt.

Has it been a week since I’ve used the computer? I guess it must be. A week ago I tipped over while typing and boogered up the keyboard tray. I was going to fix it, but forgot all about it. My mind is going down hill about as fast as my body. I hope they get to the bottom of the hill together.

I never know what I’m going to write about from week to week, but here is a spoiler alert. Marianne will be driving me to Sioux Falls for the next two or three weeks, and I’ll have lots of doctor stuff to write about. Stuff like cataract surgery, neurology, and my dermatologist also wants to see me. A young man told his dad he wanted to be a doctor, but he wasn’t sure what to specialize in. His father told him, “You should consider becoming a dermatologist. Their patients seldom get better, but they seldom die.” Sorry about that. That was about the only doctor joke I know.

I was going to put the golf clubs in the basement, but I ran into a guy from Freeman who wants to play Dawson Creek yet this season. It looks like maybe Thursday will work. We should finally have some sunshine and drying weather, and the temperatures will be up around sixty every day. Drive carefully everyone. The deer are starting to cross the road at night, and there are lots of them.