When I die

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inyati13

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Bury me on my farm, at the end of the ridge where the cattle laid in the shade and chewed their cud. Turn my dog lose so that he might lie in the grass on my grave. Put these words on my stone," It wasn't the women that killed ole Ron, or the whiskey he drank that took his breath; it was a little fly, that crawled up his butt and tickled ole Ron to death!"
 

john250

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inyati13":34uvfi8f said:
Bury me on my farm, at the end of the ridge where the cattle laid in the shade and chewed their cud. Turn my dog lose so that he might lie in the grass on my grave. Put these words on my stone," It wasn't the women that killed ole Ron, or the whiskey he drank that took his breath; it was a little fly, that crawled up his butt and tickled ole Ron to death!"

Should I put this on my calendar for next month? Or is it just long range planning?
 
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inyati13

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john250":33zekf8z said:
inyati13":33zekf8z said:
Bury me on my farm, at the end of the ridge where the cattle laid in the shade and chewed their cud. Turn my dog lose so that he might lie in the grass on my grave. Put these words on my stone," It wasn't the women that killed ole Ron, or the whiskey he drank that took his breath; it was a little fly, that crawled up his butt and tickled ole Ron to death!"

Should I put this on my calendar for next month? Or is it just long range planning?

The spirit was in me and just took over. My mom is 90 and still tells me to wear clean shorts as you never know. She still tells me every day to be a good boy and I will be 63 in August.
 
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inyati13

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I always laugh with my brother about when a bunch of guys that love each other get together and drink. They all get emotional and say to each other," This is what it is all about. It don't get any better than this." Truthfully, ain't it great to feel that way. I been there, done that. Sometimes the most intelligent thing you can do is be crazy. Thanks guys.
 

cow pollinater

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I've been replacing a bunch of fence after work up in the hills and my wife has been pondering mortality lately. She asked me what I wanted when I died and I told her with a straight face to creamate me and dump me in the bottom of a posthole up at the ranch... The jokes on them... Ain't nobody else left in this world but me that's stubborn enough to dig a posthole in that crap. :lol:
 

3waycross

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Sometimes the most intelligent thing you can do is be crazy.


Seems to be workin pretty well for me!
 

hillrancher

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Since all my folks are babtist and beleive in hell fire and brimstone, they do not like the word cremation. I tell them that is going to be my last ride is to the slab to be cooked. Ashes goes to my granddaughter to be put into the creek just north of the house with 50 gal 24D that way I will get even with my tree hugging nighbors.
 

Commercialfarmer

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Commercialfarmer

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It would be a 120 miles at least by my calculation if it was all just in a square, it would take a bit.

I also like the part about eating beef every day.

And the part about working hard, loving his family, living clean, reading and believing what is written in the bible, but not calling himself religious. Well, in todays standards, I don't know what else you would call it.

I like listening to the real stories of the old west, I could hear the crackle in his voice when I was reading it. Some good people were made back then. They new true freedom, the good times and the hard times. My great grandmother use to tell about traveling in the covered wagons to Oklahoma territory and home steading as a little girl. The lived in a one room dug out with a dirt floor. Before that, they lived in Kansas (post civil war) and had to contend with a band of outlaws she called the "Jayhawkers" that would raid the local farmers periodically. When they heard they were in the area, her parents would hide their valuables and stuff like mollases in false bottom barrels and put fireplace ashes on top. She said the kids would be hidden away and her dad would great them. They would go through stuff and even put poles into the barrels checking for hidden items. They never found any.

She made real home made bread up until she was in her late 90's. Nothing went better with a good story.
 
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inyati13

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What got me thinking about this was the song, "Leavin" Cheyenne" by Ian Tyson. Take a hear of it if you can find it on the web. I like how he sings it.

Story: my grandfather was raised in the hills of KY. He was born about 1885. His last name was Mitchell, mon's side. He told the story passed down that he and his brother Mitch were raised in a cabin. They said the loft of the cabin was so cold in the winter that if you had to crap in the night, you did it on the floor. The next morning it would be froze solid. You would kick it loose and throw it out between the cracks in the logs. :yuck:
 

ALACOWMAN

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inyati13":1lk9o83i said:
What got me thinking about this was the song, "Leavin" Cheyenne" by Ian Tyson. Take a hear of it if you can find it on the web. I like how he sings it.

Story: my grandfather was raised in the hills of KY. He was born about 1885. His last name was Mitchell, mon's side. He told the story passed down that he and his brother Mitch were raised in a cabin. They said the loft of the cabin was so cold in the winter that if you had to crap in the night, you did it on the floor. The next morning it would be froze solid. You would kick it loose and throw it out between the cracks in the logs. :yuck:
just think,, some of those old stories could have been lost...... :cowboy:
 

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