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Picture it: rural area, Sunday morning, church is packed and the devil decides to pay a visit.  The doors burst open, and a roiling black cloud rolls in with the devil in its midst. People jump out of the pews and run outdoors, screaming - all except for two. One is the Pastor, the other is an elderly farmer. Satan is a bit perplexed. He points to the Pastor and says," You!  I can understand why you didn't run away, you are in your Lord's house, you preach against me everyday and you aren't afraid of me. But YOU (points to the farmer), why didn't you run out scared like everyone else?"  The farmer crosses one leg over the other and drawls, "Why, I'm surprised you don't recognize me...I've been married to your sister for 36 years!"

   In a small town, farmers of the community had gotten together to discuss some important issues. About midway through the meeting, a wife of one of the farmers stood up and spoke her piece.
   One of the old farmers stood up and said, "What does she know about anything? I would like to ask her if she knows how many toes a pig has?"
   Quick as a flash, the woman replied, "Take off your boots sir, and count them yourself!"

WE OWN and operate a goat dairy, and every spring brings an influx of city visitors to see the kids. We had just taken time from our chores one afternoon to show some new arrivals to an interested couple. One very agile goat shot out of the gate, leaped with all four feet into the air, twisted sideways, and then bounded stiff-legged across our freshly planted garden. "Oh, look!" shouted the woman with delight. "He's gamboling!" "Yeah," growled my husband in hot pursuit. "With his life!"

WHILE working at a living-history farm, a colleague and I demonstrated cheese making. We explained how to set the milk, add rennet, strain off the whey and press the curds. At the end of our talk, we asked if the visitors had any questions. After a short silence, a little girl piped up, "Since you know so much about curds and whey, what's a tuffet?"

As A farmer, my brother in-law often receives shipments of young poultry through a mail-order service. One Saturday he headed to the post office to pick up a shipment due that day. When he returned empty handed, my sister asked him what had happened. "Well," he replied, "it's like they always say — the chick's in the mail."

ROBERT BATEMAN, internationally acclaimed artist and naturalist, was working on a painting of a lioness and cub and wanted to portray them in as natural an environment as possible. He recalled an old apple tree not far from his rural southern Ontario home that was reminiscent of trees he had seen in Africa. Packing his painting supplies in the station wagon, he prepared to go, having previously roughed in the lioness on the canvas. While he was working, a farmer and his son stopped by to watch him. Seeing their surprise at what was in the painting, Bateman said, "You should have been here half an hour ago!"

A farmer walked into a Lawyers office wanting to file for a divorce.
The Lawyer asked: "May I help you?"
The Farmer said: "Yeah I want one of them Dayvorces."
The Lawyer said: "Well, do you have any grounds?"
The Farmer said: "Yeah, got about 140 acres."
The Lawyer said: "No you don't understand. . . do you have a Case?"
The Farmer said: "No, I don't got a Case, but I got a John Deere!"
The Lawyer said: "No! You don't understand, I mean do you have a Grudge?"
The Farmer said: "Yeah, I got a Grudge . . . that's where I park my John Deere."
The Lawyer said: "No Sir, I mean do you have a suit?"
The Farmer said: "Yeah, I got a Suit. I wear it to church on Sundays."
The Lawyer said: "Well Sir, does your wife beat you up or anything?"
The Farmer said: "No Sir, we both get up about 6:30."
The Lawyer then said: "Well is she a nagger or anything?"
The Farmer said: "No she's a little white gal, but our last child was a nagger, and that's why I wan the Dayvorce."

   An old farmer decided it was time to get a new rooster for his hens.  The current rooster was still doing an okay job, but he was getting on in years. And the farmer figured getting a new rooster couldn't hurt anything.   So he buys a young cock from the local rooster emporium, and turns him loose in the barn yard.
   Well, the old rooster sees the young one strutting around and he gets a little worried.  So, they're trying to replace me, thinks the old rooster.  I've got to do something about this.  He walks up to the new bird and says, "So you're the new stud in town?  I bet you really think you're hot stuff, don't you?   Well I'm not ready for the chopping block yet.  I'll bet I'm still the better bird.  And to prove it, I challenge you to a race around that hen house over there.   We'll run around it ten times and whoever finishes first gets to have all the hens for himself."
   Well, the young rooster was a proud sort, and he definitely thought he was more than a match for the old guy.  "You're on," said the young rooster.   "And since I know I'm so great, I'll even give you a head start of half a lap.   I'll still win easy," said the young rooster.  So the two roosters go over to the hen house to start the race with all the hens gathering around to watch.
   The race begins and all the hens start cheering the roosters on.  After the first lap, the old rooster is still maintaining his lead.  After the second lap, the old guy's lead has slipped a little but he's still hanging in there.   Unfortunately, the old rooster's lead continues to slip each time around, and by the fifth lap he's just barely in front of the young rooster.
   By now the farmer has heard all the commotion.  He runs into the house, gets his shotgun, and runs out to the barn yard figuring a fox or something is after his chickens.  When he gets there, he sees the two roosters running around the hen house, with the old rooster still slightly in the lead.  He immediately takes his shotgun, aims, fires, and blows the young rooster away.
   As he walks away slowly, he says to himself. . . . "Damn, that's the third gay rooster I've bought this month."

Stumpy Grinder and his wife Martha were from Portland, Maine.  Every year they went to the Portland Fair, and every year Stumpy said "Ya know Mahtha, I'd like ta get a ride in that theah aihplane."   And every year Martha would say "I know Stumpy, but that aihplane ride costs ten dollahs. . . and ten dollahs is ten dollahs."  So Stumpy says "By Jeebers Mahtha, I'm 71 yeahs old. If I don't go this time I may nevah go."   Martha replies "Stumpy, that there aihplane ride is ten dollahs. . .and ten dollahs is ten dollahs."  So the pilot overhears them and says "Folks, I'll make you a deal, I'll take you both up for a ride.  If you can stay quiet for the entire ride and not say ONE word, I won't charge you, but just one word and it's ten dollars."  They agree and up they go. . .The pilot does all kinds of twists and turns, rolls and dives, but not a word is heard.  He does it one more time; still nothing. . . So he lands.  He turns to Stumpy as they come to a stop and says "By golly, I did everything I could think of to get you to holler out, but you didn't."  And Stumpy replies "Well, I was gonna say something when Mahtha fell out. . .but ten dollahs is ten dollahs!"

A young farmer is newly married and the couple can't get enough of it. Just before leaving the house for the fields at down they tear off a piece and when he returns home at evening they have another go before and after supper and maybe a couple more during the night. The problem is during the day: the fields are a long way from the house and the young man loses so much time traveling home and back again at noon that he decides to consult a friend (the town's doctor) about what to do.
   "Easiest thing in the world, Homer" says the doctor. "You take your rifle out with you every day don't you? Well when you feel like you're in the mood for some lovin' just fire a shot into the air as a signal to your wife for her to come out to you. That way you won't lose any workin' time."
   Homer tries this and it seems to work pretty good for a while. One day though the doctor stops by the house to pay a visit and he notices Homer sitting alone inside looking very morose.
   "What's wrong?" he asks. "Didn't my idea work? And where's your wife?"
   "Oh, it worked" says Homer. "Whenever I got in the mood I fired off a shot like you said and Beckie'd come runnin'. Then we'd find a secluded place and do it after which Beckie'd go back home."
   "So what's the problem?"
   "Well I think I overdid it, Doc. I ain't seen hide nor hair of Beckie since the huntin' season got started!"

ONE day as a man was driving his Datsun truck down the road, the steering wheel broke. Told that he would have to wait six months for delivery of a cog, he flew to Japan to get one. Unfortunately, the Datsun factory would sell the cogs only in boxes of 1000. Undaunted, he bought a box and took a flight home. Somewhere over the western plains, the plane ran into trouble and had to unload all unnecessary weight. Keeping one cog for himself, he allowed the rest to be thrown overboard. On the ground, two farmers looked up and one exclaimed: "Look, Sam!  It's raining Datsun cogs!"

A fella was in the market to buy some acreage. He found just what he was looking for, but it was a little expensive.  During an inspection of the property, however, he found a hive of bees.
   He told the owner that he was deathly afraid of bees, and there was no way he could consider this piece of land. The landowner assured him that the bees were completely harmless, but the buyer would have no part of it.
   Finally, the landowner made an offer.  The buyer would allow himself to be tied to a tree for an hour, nude, under the nest. So sure of the friendliness of his bees was the farmer that if ONE bee were to sting him, the farm would be his for free. The buyer thought it over and decided it was worth the risk.
   An hour later, the farmer walked out to the tree and saw the poor buyer slumped over in his bindings. Fearing the worst, he ran up to him and asked him if he had been stung.
   The city fella looked up and weakly said, "No, but doesn't that calf have a mother?"

A farmer had so many children, he ran out of names, so he started naming his kids after something around the farm. The first day of school began, and the teacher asked each child their name.  When he got to one of the farmer's sons, the boy replied "Wagon Wheel".
   The teacher said... "I need your REAL name, son", to which he boy replied, "It's Wagon Wheel, sir. . .Really".
   The teacher. . .in a huff. . .said. . ."Alright young man. . .march yourself right down to the principal's office THIS minute!!!!"
   The boy got out of his chair. . .turned to his sister and said. . . "Come on, Chicken Shit. . . .he ain't gonna believe YOU, neither!"

THERE once was a farmer who was raising 3 daughters on his own.  He was very concerned about their well being and always did his best to watch out for them.  As they entered the late teens the girls dated and on this particular evening all three of his girls were going out on a date.  This was the first time this had occurred.  As was his custom, he would greet the young suitor at the door holding his shotgun, not to menace or threaten but merely to ensure that the young man knew who was boss.
   The doorbell rang and the first of the boys arrived.  Father answered the door and the lad said " Hi, my name's Joe, I'm here for Flo.  We're going to the show, is she ready to go?"  The father looked him over and sent the kids on their way.
   The next lad arrived and said " My name's Eddie, I'm here for Betty, we're goona get some spaghetti, is she ready?"  Father felt this one was ok too, so off the two kids went.
   The final young man arrived and the farmer opened the door.
   The boy started off "Hi, my name's Chuck . . . and the farmer shot him.

It's All in the Bait...

One morning, a son got up and was leaving the house with a hand full of chicken wire.   His father said, "Son, where are you going?"  The son replied, "I'm going to catch me some chickens."  The father said, "Son, you can't catch a chicken with chicken wire." But the son insisted that he knew what he was doing.  Later on that day the son came home with two chickens in his hand. The father thought to himself, "I guess he knows what he's doing."  The next morning the son got up and was about to leave the house with some duct tape.  The father said, "Son, where are you going?"  The son replied, "I'm going to catch some ducks."  The father yelled, "YOU CAN'T CATCH DUCKS WITH DUCT TAPE!"  The son insisted he knew what he was doing.  Later on that day, the son came home with two ducks under each arm. The father thought, "Well, I guess he DOES know what he's doing!"  The next morning, the son got up with a hand full of pussy willows.  The father said, "WAIT UP SON, JUST LET ME PUT ON MY SHOES!"

ON THE plains of West Texas we don't get much rain.  But when rain does come, it usually comes in torrents.  One spring, after several days of downpour, I discussed the problem with a 96-year-old retired farmer. "Son," he said, "I've farmed in these parts for eighty years and I'd say, all told, that I spent seventy years of that time praying for rain, and ten years praying it would stop."

MY BROTHER moved his family to a small farm in British Columbia and invested in 100 chickens.  He was astounded at the cost of feeding them and repeatedly warned his two young daughters not to overdo it.  Things came to a head when he caught the girls and their two cousins giving the chickens a mid-afternoon snack. "Don't you know how much money that represents?" he howled. His wife, tired of the constant tirade, remarked, "Well, it might mean money to you, dear, but to them it's only chicken feed."

THE dairyman's ten year-old nephews from the city followed him into the milk barn. They watched him approach the first cow and deftly attach a pair of suction devices. As he did so one of the youngsters said excitedly, "Wow!   He's going to jump-start her the way Daddy does Mr. Fermicelli's car!"

THREE friends of mine, all ranchers, sat around my table finishing up the book-keeping for their winter-calf project. They had purchased the calves at a high price just before the market declined.  Weather conditions had been unusually severe, and the calves had been sick, requiring frequent medical attention.   It was quiet as the men studied the books.  Finally George pushed his chair back.  "Well," I asked, "how bad was it?"  George stared at his coffee, then at the books and summed it all up: "If I had stayed in bed every morning until ten o'clock, then gotten up, had a cup of coffee, walked to the back door and thrown a twenty-dollar bill out into the bloomin' wind, I would have been way ahead."

A FARMER married a woman who was forever correcting his use of words. One evening he told her he had a friend named Bill he wanted her to meet. "Don't call him Bill," she prompted, "call him William."  When the friend arrived the farmer said, "I'd like to tell you a tale."   "Not tale," she interrupted.  "Say anecdote."  That night the farmer asked his wife to put out the light.  "Not put out," she corrected.  "Say extinguish."  Later in the night she awakened her husband to investigate a noise she had heard. "What is it?" she asked when he returned.  "It was only a William goat," he replied carefully, "which I took by its anecdote and extinguished."

AN ELDERLY farmer was brought into the hospital because he appeared confused and was thought to have had a stroke.  Attempting to assess his mental state, the doctor asked, "If you have a hundred sheep in a pasture and seven escape, how many will be left?"  "Zero," replied the farmer.   "No, the answer is ninety-three," said the doctor.   "Fella," the farmer replied acerbically, "you don't know nothin' about sheep.  When one of them dumb critters decides to go, they all go."

I WAS visiting my in-laws for the first time at their remote farm in northern Ontario.  After the long nine-hour drive, I was hot and wanted a shower, but was told that the only source of water was a well about 100 meters from the house.  "You mean you don't have any running water!" I exclaimed.   "Sure we do," said my mother-in-law.  "You take a pail and run on down to the well, and then you run on back with your water."

HAVING been born and raised in the big city, my fiancÚ was not too familiar with country life.  When I took her home to the farm for a visit and was showing her around, I pointed to a distant farm house and explained that they were my closest neighbours.  She, knowing only the ways of the city, inquired, "Have you ever met them?"

I KNEW the value of farmland in Nova Scotia's Annapolis Valley had risen over the past few years; but it wasn't until I overheard a conversation in a Kentville barbershop that I realized how staggering the increase has been.  An elderly man had just seated himself in the chair when the barber asked, "Do you still own that big farm over by Lakeville?"  "Sure do."  "I've been thinking about buying some land out your way.  Would you sell me some of yours?"  "How much land are you talking about?" the old man asked.   "Oh, around five thousand dollars worth," the barber replied.   "Five thousand dollars worth!" the old man exclaimed.  "Sure, I'll sell you five thousand dollars worth.  Do you want it in a bag or a box?"

MANY years ago my father's neighbor, who had always farmed with horses, decided to catch up with the times and buy a tractor.  His wife was convinced that the purchase was unnecessary.  After they had argued about it for several weeks, she exclaimed in frustration, "But you don't need a tractor!"   "I know I don't need a tractor," he retorted. "I didn't need you, but I wanted you!"  He got the tractor.

I WAS bicycling on back roads in a small town and stopped at a store to ask directions. The elderly store owner told me, "Go six kilometers until you see Jack's big, white farmhouse on the left. The road you want goes off to the right."  After a pause, he added, "Jack's dog will help you choose the right road."

ONE warm day I asked my teenage nephew, who came from the city to work on the farm, to help me weed the garden.  He soon became bored with the job.  I suggested to him that he listen to the beautiful sounds in the trees and surrounding area.  "Aunty," he said, "I hate country and western music."

WILLIAM and Alexander were neighbouring farmers in a part of Scotland where my late husband spent his childhood.  In the evening Alexander would visit William and after greeting each other they would settle down in easy chairs on either side of the fireplace. Then they would light up their pipes and start reading the daily paper.  The visit would last for perhaps an hour or two, then Alexander would get up to go home, saying, "We'el William, we've had a grand think."

"IS IT true you have four grain harvests a year in Russia?"  "Yes. One comes from Russia, one from Hungary, one from Canada and one from the United States."

SOON after getting his pilot's license, my husband was talking with my Uncle Olson, a farmer with his feet firmly planted in the soil.   Again and again Tom urged my uncle to go for a short plane ride, and each time he politely refused.  Pressed for a reason, Uncle Olson explained: "Well, it's like this.  I never rode in nothin' yet that sooner or later I didn't have to get out and push!"

DURING World War II my mother-in-law lived in a part of Holland where food was very scarce.  Every week she would knit a pair of socks and take them to a local farmer to exchange them for dairy products.  The cotton yarn was obtained by unraveling a large bedspread crocheted by her grandmother.  When the bedspread was down to its final skein, she told the farmer's wife this was the last pair of socks and could they exchange something else.  "That's fine" said the farmer's wife, "I only needed one more to finish my bedspread "

As a traveling salesman I cover a large rural territory and often find myself running behind schedule. One day, to make up time, I decided to ignore a road sign stating travel on a new stretch of highway was inadvisable. To be on the safe side, I asked a local merchant if the road was passable, and he assured me it was. In fact, he said, a funeral procession had traveled over it just a few days earlier.
   The road out of town was indeed smooth, and I was just about to congratulate myself when I crested a hill and landed up to my axle in mud. I realized immediately that I would need help to get out. I remembered passing a farm not too far back so, trudging through the mud, I knocked at the door and explained my predicament.
   "Look," the farmer replied with disgust, "if you guys can't read road signs, I'm not helping you. Just last Tuesday I pulled out a whole darn funeral procession!"

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Last updated October 02, 2015 by Becquet Enterprises