John McCain Spuds and Yellow Pencils

This morning Bill called 'em "John McCain spuds."

"Huh?" I responded while walking into the kitchen from my morning chores.  Bill had cooked up his breakfast which included a garden potato. 

"They're 'John McCain spuds' cuz McCain and his family thought America was already great," Bill explained. 

A whole lot of us in this family agreed with the Senator.  

When Bill sampled one of the early manure-pile spuds for breakfast a few weeks ago, he uttered something to the effect that these potatoes could be "Make America Great Again" spuds.

To which I immediately retorted that maybe I'd better plant more cuz if we're living in the "Make America Great Again" times, we may need more "depression" potatoes before it's all over. 

And, "depression" could mean many things these days. 

Well, I did dig spuds yesterday, about three quarters' worth of my barnyard spud patch.  The last quarter was planted later, so I'll let them stay in the ground a while longer. 

It's been a good year here at the Lovestead for spuds, in  both quantity and quality.  Mighty tasty and many good-sized bakers. 

We're planning to buy half a pig from the neighbors this fall. Our burgers and German sausages always come from Wood's Meats about a mile away, so we could be enjoying many wonderful home-grown meals with all those spuds over the winter. 

In the meantime, back to that "Make America Great Again" conversation.  After following this morning's version of the latest "They can't make this stuff up" from the White House, I got to thinking that a lot of those folks leading our country should have grown up at our house. 

Mike Pompeo:  I didn't do it.

Mike Pence:  I didn't do it. 

And, probably several more will echo that denial before I finish writing this post. 

For some reason, these denials remind me of one of the stories in my first book Pocket Girdles, which told of the significance of a yellow No. 2 pencil and how my mother and dad eventually got the truth out of "who dunnit." 

Someone carved a tiny amount of paint from the pencil, about a quarter inch up by the eraser.  

Mother discovered the pencil and its new blemish one day while in the living room.  I'm guessing we must have all been sitting there when she held up the pencil and barked, "Who carved on this pencil?"

One by one, three kids issued emphatic denials. 

Apparently, Mother kept track of minor details, like yellow pencils with paint on them one day and flawed parts the next.  

I could never figure out why someone carving on that pencil was so important to our mother, until later in life.  

She persevered.  She wanted to know who dunnit, so the interrogations continued. 

Interrogations were followed by punishment---no TV until someone fessed up.  That lasted for several days, each of which included a new interrogation followed by the "go to your rooms" during evening TV favorites. 

Somebody eventually did fess up, and from that day forth, in our minds, yellow No. 2 pencils symbolized a quest for the truth. 

They also reminded us that telling the truth would get us back to watching TV. Back in those days, that was quite the carrot to dangle in front of little kids who were progressing toward adulthood. 

There's an interesting aspect of yesterday's news about the anonymous New York Times writer , who probably didn't use a yellow No. 2 pencil to pen his/her submission suggesting that the White House staff, behind the scenes and behind Trump's back, is taking care of America.

That person wrote about a known liar who is now demanding that someone on his staff tell the truth about telling the truth about the President. 

It's crazy.  It's scary, and it is a series of events beyond our wildest imaginations. 

Still, I think that if a lot of these folks who are allegedly leading our country to "greatness" had grown up around our home, on our farm, with our parents and with some of our mentors to guide them, our country wouldn't be enduring this state of insanity.

Through many childhood experiences similar to the yellow pencil incident, we country kids learned the importance of truth, responsibility, trust, decency,  pride in a job well done, cooperation, respect, leadership, kindness toward others, common goals, deep patriotism, etc.  

We also grew up---armed with those principles---spending our careers and retirements in a GREAT AMERICA, never once doubting that we were truly blessed to live in the greatest country on Earth. 

Hopefully, by the time we bid adieu to this earth, that sense of COLLECTIVE pride in our nation will return and once again flourish.  

It might take a yellow pencil incident and turning off Fox News, along with some courageous and true leadership, to accomplish that goal, but with luck, it will happen.  

And, John McCain spuds will continue to remind us of the greatness of our nation. 

Happy Thursday.  By the way, after digging all those spuds, I enjoyed a nice ride on Lefty last night.