January 11, 1968

          "To slop the pigs, or not to slop the pigs" - that is the question. And the verdict will probably remain just as unresolved as the answer to whether or not you should dunk your doughnut. 

          With the coming of self-feeders and ground feed, the old swill barrel went out of date. But now the merits of this liquid feed are again being weighed. And equipment is being made so it can be done automatically.

          Way back in the dim past many of us can remember the big barrel that stood by the hog house. Here the skim milk was dumped after every milking, some corn or oats added and it was set to soak. 

          The pigs must have thought it was a delicious concoction, for they would almost knock the farmer down as he delivered it to their long troughs. 

          IN JANUARY, Mother Nature is apt to turn the thermostat down to below zero temperatures. But this doesn't give the farmer an excuse to sit in by the fire. He has to take a chance on being nipped by Jack Frost and get out to do the chores. 

          It's hard for him to decide which is worse..."doing" the chores in cold weather, or "dreading" to go out and do them. 

          THIS COLD weather brings problems with it. The water fountains freeze up! The tractor won't start! And who wants to struggle with these things when the cold  

 wind blows through your wraps and you can see your breath? 

          The animals look like they have had their noses in the flour bin, and even the farmer gets frosty after several hours of chores. 

          On these cold days, our Ferdinand resembles a dragon breathing fire and smoke as he stands and bellows, each bellow sending forth puffs of white frosty breath. 

          EVEN WHEN the weather is cold, Pepper likes to be outside so she can come and go as she pleases, and so she can keep watch on things. 

          "Twenty below" weather or not, she feels she has to be out by the gate to see us off and welcome us home. We can tell she is uncomfort-able as she holds up one foot off the frozen ground, and then the other. 

          When she has performed her duty, she runs to her place of refuge, a niche in the pile of bales where the north wind cannot reach her, and where, when the sun is out, she is in a position to catch every winter sunbeam. 

          SOMETIMES cold winds of adversity blow around us, and the frigid fingers of discouragement want to get a grip on us, then we too can run to our place of refuge and be warmed in the sunshine of his love. 

          "Thou art my hiding place."  

 Ps. 119:114 

January 16, 1969

          Yesterday's necessities are today's curiosities. The kerosene lamp. The pot belly stove. The spinning wheel and the kitchen pump. It is hard to understand how Grandma could manage without our modern conveniences. 

          But there was something that Grandma had that I still have a wondering curiosity about. It was her square wooden egg crate. When she filled it with white and brown eggs she could accomplish almost anything with it. 

          This egg container was small enough for a woman to carry and it fitted nicely in the back seat...but it held enough eggs to make unbelievable purchases. 

          Grandma never left for town without her little egg crate. Off to the grocery store she went with her produce. As years go by and prices go up, the memories of all the groceries she could get in return for her eggs seems almost miraculous. To do the same today, the eggs would have to be made of gold. 

          Grandma's wooden egg crate was almost like Aladdin's lamp, It was able to produce in any emergency. Need some material for a dress? or hose or socks? a birthday gift, offering for Ladies Aid? or liniment or fruit to can? Grandma would never hesitate. She loaded her faithful egg crate and hauled it off to town. 

          I guess I'll always marvel at what a paltry few eggs could do in Grandma's days. But that was long ago. Today it takes a fat checkbook to replace Grandma's magic egg crate. 

    THE CONTENTED cows you hear about aren't always contented! Especially these days when exposure to below zero weather has caused some painful complications. Now you find out that cows can be very emphatic about their "Don't touch me's!" 

The money the dairyman earns - he deserves every penny of it. A certain amount of discomfort goes with the job, such as being stepped on now and then by a ton-sized cow, or receiving a good kick once in a while. And getting a tail whipped in your eye doesn't feel very good either! 

When you milk the same cows morning and night, you learn to size them up. Some have a mean streak. Some are nervous. And there are others that are a disappointment. They have so little to give that it's hardly worth the bother. But the dairyman has some good old faithfuls in his herd, and he sings the praises of the one that is so generous that the bucket can't contain it all. She does what is expected of her and then some! 

THAT'S THE way God always gives. He outdoes our expectations! "Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think be glory throughout all ages. Amen."      Eph. 3:20, 21