*July 1, 2009 ©Karen A J Rinehart*
My husband and I are always dreaming of owning a farm someday. We were on
our way to Garden City one weekend, when he started talking about it. I had
told him that I'd heard that a certain parcel of land in eastern Kansas was
selling for $350 an acre and that 100 acres would cost $35,000. He told me,
there would be the cost of the land, cattle, house, fencing, etc. I told
him not to forget the horses. We'd always wanted horses so we could go
rinding. I came up with a solution to our problems. Of course he thought I
needed to be in the State Mental Hospital.
All I told him was, to buy miniature acres. That way it would cost $3.50 an
acre instead of $350. I continued by telling him, he would have to then buy
miniature cattle to put on the miniature acres. After much complaining and
picking on me about my losing my mind, I told him that the horses would have
to be miniature and we would have to have miniature cowboys, farm house,
barn, corrals and packing houses to put on the miniature acres that we were
After continuing to inform me that I was insane, I told him I was going to
the miniature farm and get the miniature shot gun from the closet and
proceed to shoot him in the leg. He told me that he wouldn't feel anything
because being shot with a miniature shotgun would feel like a bee sting.
Turning to look at him, I calmly said, "No, it won't feel like a bee sting
because you will be miniature too. Besides, I have to have a miniature
safety director for my miniature packing plant and you are the only one I
All of this came about from my boredom on our trip and the fact that we
wanted a farm. I just reminded him that I wasn't insane. Just because I
saw little Indians atop the hills on I-70 between Hays and Topeka did not
mean I was insane. I rest my case.
For lunch today, we had...
15 hours ago