Happy 4th of July, the day we honor our countries inception, we honor our right to choose and recognize there’s still nothing new under the Sun.

What I have discovered in the last couple of weeks traveling around checking and fixing water troughs on the ranch is that the coronavirus has even made its presence known here at the V6. How so, you say?

My wife being a thrifty sort never let me throw out my old Levi’s and for many years, she would get her trusty Singer Sewing Machine out and with her inventory of no longer reparable jeans she would carefully cut a piece of the same color material to plug a hole in one of my well worn Levi’s with the idea to make the patch as inconspicuous as possible.

They certainly are an independent lot.

I now call myself a Grass-man first and a Cattleman second. It may seem inconsequential just a game of semantics but it’s not. Because now my priority is to look at the condition of the land first and the condition of the cattle second.

I’m not sure if I have a satisfied mind or maybe it’s a comfortable mind, either way they can roll with the punches and know that someday when our tenure here on earth is over, I do believe if you thought kindly of yourself amongst the living it follows that you get to take this attitude with you when you take your last breath.

Good question.

Are you willing to put that doughnut down?

Rule #1: Life is not fair, get used to it.

“Jack press the delete key and knock this monotonous piece of fact and fantasy in the head.”

I was listening to a TED talk on my iPhone the other day and one of the talks was about danger and how young people deal with it. I didn't necessarily agree with the author and as to how he would solve the problem so I would like to offer up my own thoughts on the subject.

We all need to join together and say that the Highest and Best Use for open space is open space and is not to be taxed out or zoned out of existence by the government’s insatiable need for “always more cash.”

I hope not. For I’ve just left the admissions office at Cuesta College. Where I register for the fall semester taking a course in Political Science which should be interesting especially with all the mean spirited politicians in Congress now a days. Anyway it went quite smoothly and I’m hoping that in this learning environment it might stimulate a few of my brain cells to get off the couch.

My well managed grazing cow who uses all the acres that can’t be plowed produces nutrient dense meat full of Conjugated Linoleic acid that’s good for a person and omega threes and sixes, another fatty acid that’s good for the body and proteins that don’t make fat and sequesters CO2 back into the soil. My hope in closing is that meatless meat will go the way of margarine that was going to replace butter as the health food of the 1980s and 90s and when all the propaganda about the health benefits of margarine were debunked butter regained proper place at the table of good stuff to eat.

Oh there you are hiding inside the farts and burps of cows as they chew their cuds. So who cares. Well I’m going to tell you who cares. I was reading one of my weekly magazines. One is to the left of center and the other is to the right of center. Well wouldn’t you know it I found this article in the left of center magazine. The author stated that The International Panel on Climate Change said people should eat way less meat because cattle are a big producer of Methane gas (CH4) which is a contributor to global warming.

The 2 hardest topics for me to write about are humor and happiness. One, to use humor that will make a reader want to chuckle and maybe even laugh out loud. The second is to describe my ideas "on being happy" and how I slide in and out of that place in my mind that causes me to feel happy.

You what?! You heard me, I sell sunlight. It’s taken me 83 years to discover what I have in abundance that I can turn into Solar Dollars to spend. But I need some “how to” guidelines when I use photosynthesis to pay the bills.

Doing the right thing is killing me softly with demands that I would love to fulfill but can’t. What am I saying? That age has brought the word “can’t” into my vocabulary. Well it may be there, but that doesn’t mean I have to use it.

August 1943, the second Friday, a day that will bring out the best and worst for a boy who had just recently progressed to swimming without Water Wings.

My two boys, John and Greg, are 10 and 12 respectively. It’s a hot August day of 1975, our San Luis Obispo County Fair is now in my rear view mirror and I felt like the three of us needed a totally new experience to wind up the boys summer vacation.