Storms
Storms By Chris McClure Contributing Editor When the wind blows And the dust rolls There can still be peace within. Our anchor holds Despite
Storms By Chris McClure Contributing Editor When the wind blows And the dust rolls There can still be peace within. Our anchor holds Despite
The Yard Bird By Chris McClure Contributing Editor Grasshoppers and beetles, seeds, nuts and fruits, Contentedly clucking and picking at roots A gray-feathered hen
The Futures Market By Chris McClure Contributing Editor The futures market has been described As just like riding broncs; You’re up, then down and
Eternal Optimism – the Cattle Feeder’s Disease By Chris McClure Contributing Editor The grass is getting short because it’s been so hot and dry.
Going Fishing Bawling calves and hanging dust That gets in ears and forms a crust Around the nostrils and the lips; The contest has commenced