“Visibility zero.” “Visibility one-eighth mile.” “Visibility one-quarter mile.”

Any of those forecasts are time for alert. Actually best just stay home until the report changes. A quarter-of-a-mile allows some vision, but one-eighth is treacherous.

Zero visibility means there’s no way to see. Like the dark of night with cloud cover, no moon, no stars. A person can’t see anything period. It’s essential to stay off the highway for personal safety and well-being of any dumb one driving in the fog.

Needing to fill up with gas before heading to work, turned right to town, roadway ahead could hardly be seen. Not very far. By the time came out of town heading north, there was fog, but could see enough to feel safe.

Next morning, another group of cows and calves to work before grass, crew was to be ready at 8 o’clock. Barely seeing the road, arrived in ample time, but the gate couldn’t be seen let alone any cows with calves.

Starting time delayed an hour, and it was still foggy, as cowboys horseback headed east to gather the pairs. Somehow everyone was accounted for when the makeshift panel corral gate closed.

Wasn’t long before sun was shining bright, no inkling that one could barely see minutes earlier.

Whenever the fog is that bad, can’t help but remember many years ago driving to Concordia for a farm show. It was foggy for sure, but driving slow carefully, wasn’t worried about hazards.

“It’s better to have too much rain than the opposite.”

That’s the comment heard reflecting dry conditions of a year ago compared to now.

Obviously local opinion is legitimately countered with disagreement from those suffering irreplaceable, financially devastating flood damages.

Deepest heartfelt condolences are expressed to those experiencing terribly dramatic forever life altering acts of nature.

Vastness of loss remains incomprehensible to outsiders despite vivid news coverage of extensive flooding horridness.

Worst loss is human lives taken by uncontrollable, no escaping raging high waters.

Everybody in the nearby flooding region has been lifetime diversely harmed. Farms of generations destroyed, never to be replaced. Richest soils of the world were stolen by rampant overflowing.

Entire livestock operations morbidly were taken with no reprieve despite distinct natural instinct and owner-operator management assisting tactics.

Even with government programs and broadest generous financial assistance, life as was never again, no matter how evaluated.

Money cannot buy what has been lost. No way to start over, begin again. Life goes on in an entirely different direction, never expected or imagined in the scariest dream.

No actual semblance, yet cowboys are experiencing dilemmas with local flooding now, too.

“Favorite flowers on the ranch are dandelions.”

At least that must be the case as the entire yard has been covered with the colorful yellow blooms.

Interesting the response for roll call at a recent meeting when members were asked their favorite flower. More than half of those attending said: “dandelions.”

Evidently, everyone’s weed control methods are identical. Nothing was done and the little pretty yellow flowers thrived.

One time years gone by, a broadleaf herbicide was spread over the lawn when green started showing. Believe it or not, hardly one dandelion lived.

Even worse than the lawn flowers are the white fuzz balls replacing pretty blooms and now intensely seeding dandelions. If it’s possible, next year’s yellow flower bloom crop will likely extend the present one.

Now just wait one minute, perhaps instead of complaining entrepreneur business enterprises should be started.

It’s been contended that dandelions can be used to make wines not generally available at most places selling alcoholic beverages. Promoters proclaim the prolific yellow lawn weed is easily crafted into a “tasty true elixir of health.”

“Driving too fast is dangerous to all concerned.”

Preface conversation with legitimacy of thoughts having received too many “traffic citations.” Friend mentor decades ago, Warren Gilman, Chamber of Commerce leader, got “tickets” on occasion. Each one just shrugged off: “They’re manmade laws and can change upon a wisp.”

Certainly, that’s true with frequency that speed limits have gone up and down. Likewise, varying stringency, leniency, inconsistency of enforcement, such enforcers often exceed posted signs.

Still, no question, wrecks increase with heavy footed automotive driving.

Interesting though speeding on roadways was considered dangerous resulting in fines long before cars were invented.

If President Grant were alive today, he’d probably have quite a few points on his license by now.

While Grant was president in 1866, accidents forced Washington, D.C., authorities to crack down on speeders. For policeman William West, the last straw was when a woman and six-year-old child were seriously injured on West’s corner by a “driver of fast horses.”

The next day, West caught Grant’s buggy going at “a furious pace.” America’s top elected official was immediately pulled over.

“Mister President,” said West, “I want to tell you that you were violating the law by driving at reckless speed. It is endangering the lives of the people who have to cross the street.”

“That’ll stop the smoke.”

Longtime farmer friend accessed another pour down walking out of church.

For several days, Flint Hills had been ablaze with smoke apparent in the sky every direction.

It was a haze drawing critical attention from a handful or so of large urban centers.

They were offended at the contamination and fright of hazardous damage to the environment.

Such a controversial issue has been pasture burning since beginning as necessary range management tool.

Fact is prairies were free of most intruders until ranchers started productive grazing programs.

Nature took care of itself, it’s said; lightning started fires, pastures burned, lush grass grew. Buffalo, deer, antelope, prairie chicken and creatures of the wild thrived on native rangeland.

Farmers and ranchers started planting trees of various sorts for windbreaks, home shade and landscaping.

Worthwhile endeavor until wildlife and wind were seeding trees all over the lands.

Then environmentalists encouraged various additional herbaceous plantings in attempting to slow land erosion.

“Helpful” plants soon were nature spread beyond eroding draws, washouts and steep acreage into land never intended.

“Just a newspaper.”

That simple phrase brought ire from a dedicated reader when writing about checking the mailbox and finding “just a newspaper.”

“Oh Frank. How could you write it?” she questioned.

“Having spent my entire adult life in the company of print journalists, my heart sinks at the words: Just a newspaper,” the lady continued.

At first alarmed, the sting quickly left realizing that “off the cuff” comment could be taken offensively. Even more so emphatic for “a print journalist myself from time to time.”

Clarifying her point, she added, “I’ve seen your stories in other newspapers, so I know you have respect for an audience of readers.”

Guilty as charged, immediate apology was in order seeking reprieve for wrongdoing.

“Ooooops. You are right. As a lifetime dedicated writer, newspapers are always important mail. Subscribing to nearly two dozen daily, weekly and monthly print publications; it’s only disappointing when one doesn’t arrive.”

Briefly relating newspaper career spanning high school, college and 46 years professionally, apology insisted. “I’m sorry for my bad stepping across the line. In modern times, seldom does anybody edit stories. Had a smart knowledgeable person like you critiqued the piece, suggestion could have been made to change that offensive terminology. Unquestionably, there is room for improvement of most writings.”

Fortunately, the concerned reader, a member of the Society of Professional Journalists, accepted the cowboy’s penitence.

“Thank you so much for your response to my rant. My late husband had a lifelong career with The Kansas City Star and Times. Big urban newspapers have shrunk drastically in recent years, but smaller papers continue providing news that is the lifeblood of small communities.”

By Raylene Quaney

Help House’s Prom Closet is open and has over 100 beautiful gowns in nearly any style, color and size. Prom Closet is open 4-7 p.m. Monday evenings, and 10 a.m.-1 p.m. Tuesday through Friday, from now until all proms in Osage County are over. These dresses are available to any young lady that is a resident of Osage County. Come in and find your perfect dress for that special night.  There is no charge for any of the dresses.

Budgeting class

The next “Good Sense” budget class will be held 9 a.m.-4 p.m. Monday, April 15, at Help House. Once completed, the participant is eligible for assistance with heating and or cooling cost on utilities, gas, electric or wood. This is a one-day class. Call 785-828-4888 for more information and to register.

Volunteer training

Help House’s annual volunteer training has been rescheduled for April 29. Registration begins at 9 a.m. All volunteers are asked to participate in this training at least once. If you have thought about becoming a volunteer and would like to know more about Help House, you are welcome to attend. Please call the office to register.

Mobile food pantries

Mobile food pantry dates for April:

• Carbondale Church of Christian Fellowship, 12 p.m., 2nd Tuesday, April 9
• Osage City Community Center, 10-11 a.m., 3rd Thursday, April 18
• Burlingame Federated Church 10 a.m., 3rd Thursday, April 18
• Lyndon Jones Park on East Sixth Street, 12 p.m. 3rd Friday, April 19
• Melvern pantry has been cancelled until further notice.

Reflections of this heroine keep returning in the memory.

Farm girl, cowboy’s wife, encouraging mother, never ceasing community thinker, lifetime friend Donna Muller passed away several weeks ago.

First are ruminations of Donna wearing a summer dress appropriate for the ’50s in her lawn chair collecting rosettes.

Husband cowboy Kenny was showing home raised Quarter Horses, winning purple prizes pitched to Donna ringside at the county fair. It made a lifetime impression on a wannabe cowboy who didn’t even own a horse.

The family acquaintance went back decades earlier when Mom was Donna’s country school teacher. A prized scrapbook possession is the photograph Donna had of her and Mom on the first day of school.

She actually followed footsteps teaching country school for a while. Both sides of Donna’s family were lifetime Four Mile community farmers; always Buchman’s Grocery customers.

Fair time was a highlight for Donna since her 4-H club days. A Four Mile 4-H Club leader, helping members, Donna guided her own children Suzanne and Richard to statewide titles.

Donna’s cinnamon rolls and county commissioners’ cookie jar entries were always fair champions.

Her certain knack for helping develop project talks and demonstrations earned many youth blue ribbons. Donna was often called to judge such competitions, including FFA speech contests, many years.

“Get ’em out of the mud.”

The statement has many connotations but been heard more and more as moisture continued coming down.

“It’s a tale of woes,” whoever’s relating their difficulty in caring for cattle in this “most unusual year,” comment added.

Certainly cattle in confinement even with highly coordinated drainage systems, there’s no relief from the mud.

Major cattle feeders report reduced gains from combination – sloppy pens, mud packed cattle backs, record cold, then too warm.

Problems expand for cow-calf operators with first calf heavy springer heifers behind the barn.

Even those with high maternal instinct can’t find a dry spot to birth. Drop the newborn in the wet mud, sometimes even a waterhole, because no alternative.

A certain mud reprieve comes when ground freezes overnight, but that’s less often, and the icy cold creates its own havoc.

Calving in grassland is generally satisfactory for mature mommas with more knowledge of caring for young, but not this year. Finding dry grass for birthing is difficult, more so with every additional sprinkle, let alone shower or downpour.

Hazards of water filled draws, fast running creeks, and ponds are always a haunt for newborns. Now, there’ve been more reports of finding babies in flooding streams, on ponds frozen tight, or stranded alive.

“Can’t is over in the ditch.”

That was first grade teacher Mrs. Gibson’s response, 62 years ago; when classmates said something couldn’t be done.

“Don’t say it can’t be done; just find another way to get accomplished what’s needed.”

That was coworker Sean Carter at the recent Farm Profit Seminar when somebody said there was no more display space.

While not always completely accurate in either scenario, both statements encourage efforts for finding solutions when quitting is easier.

Looking around the ranch front, office situations, community needs, and seemingly unconquerable projects everywhere, “can’t” is a common analysis.

An excuse of one kind or another can be determined for nearly every project that requires extra effort, coordination and cooperation.

In grade school long ago, it was easy for any kid to readily contend: “I can’t do that.” Whether printing their name, erasing the chalk board or adding one and one, the teacher proved everyone could do it.

Finding places for late arriving sponsors at last week’s seminar was as simple; crowd together, share areas, use smaller tables. Can’t was sure not the solution when all originally planned sponsorship areas were filled.

Of course, getting everything accomplished that the majority first insist can’t be done isn’t always nearly that easy. Still all things considered, generally, “where there’s a will, there’s a way,” quoting a common longtime philosophy.

That’ll require a bit of give and take from everybody involved. Certain ones are not going to get exactly their method. It must be united effort for best results.

Evidently, the ranch ought to become a pharmacy. That would be a “drug store” decades gone by, but it might get wrong connotation nowadays.

Boldface headlines daily target law-breaking news about “pills” and other such consumptions, unknown to ranch life, for “recreational” purpose.

“Getting high,” it’s said, although really wouldn’t know. Horseback ride on a brisk winter morning serves that purpose here.

Perhaps, giant medicine chest would be more accurate description of the mudroom and kitchen.

Except, most of the always very high dollar “supposed preventives, treatments” recommended health improvements aren’t in a cabinet. They’re here, there, wherever, ready for immediate use upon need or suggestion.

Now, this includes both livestock and human medication, or definition derivative thereof, maybe painkiller, to use old timer’s common terminology.

It’d be hard to know which requires more medicine these days: cattle, horses, and cats, or the ranchers. Counting all of the bottles and packages, there’s actually quite a bit more for critters.

That said, neither required such health “necessities” half century ago, can’t remember hardly any. Oh, a colt might get kerosene lard if a cut swelled up, but that was it.

Grandma, when she was in her 80s, would take one of Carter’s Little Pills. Dad was on high blood pressure tablets, and took one whenever he remembered. Mom never had any medicine period until terminal diagnosis.

By Raylene Quaney 

Help House will open its Prom Closet 4-7 p.m. Monday, March 4, 2019, and it will be open each day during regular hours until the selection of beautiful dress have been chosen by girls thoughout Osage County for their special night. We will also have jewelry available to enhance the evening wear. All girls are invited to come in on March 4, and be among the first to find their dress for that big night.

Good Sense budget class

The next “Good Sense” budget class will be held 9 a.m.-4 p.m. Monday, March 11, at Help House. This is a one-day class. Call 785-828-4888 for more information and to register.

Volunteer training scheduled

Help House’s annual volunteer training will be held on March 18. Registration begins at 9 a.m. All volunteers are asked to participate in this training at least once. If you have thought about becoming a volunteer and would like to know more about Help House, you are welcome to attend. Call the office to register.

Mobile food pantries

Mobile Food Pantry dates: Carbondale location is Carbondale Church of Christian Fellowship, 12 p.m. on the 2nd Tuesday, March 12; Osage City distribution is located at Osage City Community Center at 10 a.m. on the 3rd Thursday, March 21; Melvern Mobile Pantry has been cancelled until further notice; Burlingame distribution is held at the Burlingame Federated Church at 10 a.m. on the 3rd Thursday, March 21; Lyndon distribution is located at Jones Park on East Sixth Street, at 12 p.m. on the third Friday, March 15. Recipients in the mobile pantry are asked to be in line 15 to 20 minutes before starting time to be in the count to determine how much of each item each family will receive. Help House sponsors the Lyndon and Carbondale mobile pantries.

“There were five drooling coyotes on the pond dam this morning.”

That was the son-herdsman’s report in the back door after another check on the first calf heifers in the corral.

In the frigid cold, the varmints were anxious for a warm tasty breakfast of afterbirth should a baby arrive. Obviously, they knew the flavor and somehow instinctively readily came into the barnyard in anticipation of free easy taking.

Should a calf arrive when nobody was overlooking the herd, the wild ones would all pounce for food without manners.

If new momma is attentive to her newfound duties, generally the baby wouldn’t be in initial harm. That can change if mother moves away from a cold shivering one or there is apparent newborn weakness.

Attentiveness to assist first calvers is a major ordeal, let alone worrying about hungry canines. It’s an every three hour task day and night confirming if help is required. Having gone through that dreadful ranch task, fortunately the younger stockman and his mom will still do the work.

Typically, especially in the subzero chill index, if there are telltale signs of an arrival expectant momma is moved inside. That far from eliminates problems but reduces elements harshness.

“Mother Nature does exactly what she wants.”

Cows work just like her. When momma decides to give birth she’ll do it, or do her best trying. Contrarily it’s almost impossible to predict when that’ll be despite telltale signs often turning out differently.

First of February is sometimes considered beginning of spring calving season, although ranches have varying philosophical datelines. Certain operations set later times to begin, and some producers calve in the fall, summer and even summer.

Not nearly as many as used to be, but several cow-calf managers have babies arriving year around. It’s determined when the bull is turned into the cowherd.

Everything being just right, cow is romanced by the bull that day maybe even within minutes fertile embryo starts growing. A baby calf should be on the ground nine months, nine days, nine hours, nine minutes, nine seconds later. It’s seldom exactly that precise and often not even close.

Uncountable tribulations can come into play in this mating game. At the beginning of the season, Mr. Bull is eager and ready to go. Certain sweet, fancy, foxy, young heifers on high nutrition feel the same anticipating action.

More mature mommas, baby at side taking breakfast, generally aren’t so fast. By nature’s intent, inner body parts need a bit of rest, relaxing, healing before starting the process again.

“Hello. This is Monte Selby. I have a grant to write and sing songs about Morris County. Several people suggested I talk to you. Could I come by your office and visit?”

Sure, that’ll be fine.

Reflections from growing up in a farm town became one song Monte and Martin Selby presented in concert.

Laura Mae

Laura Mae is your best friend
Always smile and say hello
Deliver groceries to your home
That’s my job, off I’d go
Twice a day, I’m on the go

My whole life, I’ve ridden my horse
Love to be a cowboy – rope and ride
Nearly 50 years, had the time of my life
But back as a kid, I had to bide my time
Mama had work, gotta bide my time

You see, Daddy had an accident on the farm
So Mama said we gotta make money somehow
A few years later what mama found was a
Grocery store in the middle of town
Right on Main Street, middle of town, they’d say….

Laura Mae is your best friend
Always smile and say hello
Deliver groceries to your home
That’s my job, off I’d go
Twice a day, I’m on the go

“Weather can change in the blink of an eye.”

Forecasts had been fairly consistent for several days from one predictor to the next.

“It’ll be above freezing with rain turning to snow.”

Exact timing when transitions were to take place varied moving later in the day with the snow.

“If it starts snowing or the sky looks like it’s coming soon, hit the road.” That was the plan.

Nearly everybody had already left the office early with the holiday weekend.

With most work done best possible and procrastinating on the reminder, headed out the door 45 minutes early.

It was raining, had been off and on, throughout the day, now steady, yet not all that hard. Dashboard temperature gauge read 36 degrees.

Obviously others had followed trend leaving work ahead of time with highways pretty much jam packed.

It was moving fast and smoothly with cruise fixed well above posted signs but generally allowable by the cherry top. (That’s what they used to be called when law enforcement was readily identifiable like Andy and Barney.)

Driving with little thought other than get riding done as soon as at the ranch, eat supper and do nothing.

All of a sudden out of nowhere seemingly passing a semi-truck, the roadway became covered with snow and apparent slickness.

“This is sure going to waste a lot of feed.”

After a day of rain, then five inches of snow overnight, everything was a mess.

Livestock must be fed despite weather and more so when there’s icy cold water topped with snow.

Better off than another rancher who reported an inch of rain covered by 10 inches of snow.

So, load up the feed and head to the bellowing cows rambling on wet prairie begging for bales.

Always try to find the lowest quality in the hay pile to unroll on the sloppy ground. Greedy, acting like they’re starved, no hay for 24 hours or less, mommas dive into the free food.

No respectful appreciation for the breakfast, rudely stomping hay into the wet snow more than actually being consumed.

Outsider unaware of actual working ranch conditions would air opinions of better methods for less loss.

“Put the hay in a big baler feeder, so they don’t tromp it.” That’ll work with a small herd sometimes, even those 40 replacement heifers in the growing lot.

But for 260 cows in the Flint Hills such really becomes almost impossible.

By Audrey Cop

How does a small group of children at a little church in a little town called Melvern, Kansas, serve God in a really big way in the world? In this instance it happened through a missions project that started in the hearts and minds of a handful of children in a small Sunday school class, in a small local church.

Around the first part of August 2018, several children at the Melvern United Methodist Church Sunday school class came up with an idea to help people in Africa have safe drinking water for their families. The children had learned that many of the young children in these countries were dying from diseases caused by contaminated water. The parents have no source of water to provide for their children – other than the contaminated rivers and streams around them. So, the children started giving their Sunday school donations to a designated clean water project just for this purpose.

Then, the idea expanded to include the children, age kindergarten through fifth grade, at that church’s weekly after-school ministry, called “The ROCK”. The program’s name stands for Reaching Out to Christ’s Kids. This program is available to all children in the area, regardless of whether they attend that church; it meets after school on Wednesday evenings. Then there were about 20 total children involved in the missions’ project.

The children’s group decided to expand their clean water project to include sustainable food sources for people in Africa. The children had also learned how so many other children are hungry and malnourished because there is not enough food for these families. They expanded the mission project to include purchasing chickens for eggs and dairy animals for milk and cheese to provide to the families. The families could consume the eggs, milk and cheese and sell any excess food to provide much needed additional income for their families.

As a group, we prayed for God to bless this project and help us raise the money to help those in need. The children set a goal of $500 to be reached by April 2019.