| May/June 1991

Rt 2, Box 330 Irrigon, Oregon 97844

I remember my first auction. I must have been eight or nine at the time. It was not very interesting, as I could not tell what was happening. I noticed that most of the important looking people were smoking cigars, so I decided that if I wanted to look important I should smoke a cigar. I found that people who smoke cigars use up most of them. I finally found one that was an acceptable length and put it in my pocket for later use.

One evening on my way to get the cows, I made a swing through the house and grabbed a few kitchen matches and headed to the pasture for a smoke. I sat on a stump and puffed until my vision wasn't real good, then picked a few wild strawberries in the hope that it would clear my vision and my breath, and raced to catch up with the cows.

One particular auction was held on a warm spring day and I felt that I should be home working. Today, I was interested in a John Deere 216 baler that was to be sold.

As with all auctions, a person spends hours standing and waiting, so to help pass the time I often listen in on conversations. You can learn a lot about what's happening this way. I learned that someone by the name of Leo, who lives in Mesa, Washington, has a bull that's in trouble. I think his name is S.O.B. because the man said that if 'that S.O.B. doesn't start performing I'm having him converted to bologna and wieners'. What's he supposed to do? Jump up and down and click his hooves together and beller a tune?

There was a dog with one black eye roaming the grounds. He was a splotchy fellow that was quite boney and unkept. I'll call him Scratch because that is what occupied about half his time.