Hey Pete, Johnny, Tom . . .

©Jeanne E Webster – All Rights Reserved

A farmer who was out plowing with one mule kept yelling at it, “Giddap, Pete! Giddap, Barney! Giddap, Johnny! Giddap, Tom!“

A stranger, observing this, finally asked, “How many names does that mule have?”

“Only one,” answered the farmer. “His name is Pete, but he doesn’t know his own strength, so I put blinders on him. Then I yell the other names at him, and he thinks three other mules are helping him!”

~

In a serious sense, we sometimes feel we have blinders on when trying to plead our cause before the Lord. “We know not how to pray.”  

Reaching out to others not only strengthens us but deepens our zeal. There is nothing like prayer to bring hope to the downcast, peace to the anxious, or healing to the sick.

James 5:17b “The prayer of a righteous man avails much.”

Matthew 18:20 “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”

~Shalom

Saturday Satire

©Jeanne E Webster-All rights reserved

 

Once there was a lady from Big Creek
Who went to church every week
She always arrived late
T’was just her poor fate:
Though she hurried in like a streak.

The good folks were certain to peek
Things began to look bleak
As she walked the aisle
No one smirked or smiled:
Not even that nice fella, Zeke!

She swayed down the aisle so chic
Bouncing her shapely physique
You could hear a pin drop
As into the pew she’d flop:
With a thump, rumble and a squeak.

With a pungent perfume she did reek
Wore a neat hairdo and red cheeks
She would always complain
Whenever it would rain:
Her perspective needed a tweak.

One day the pastor did speak
To this sweet lady from Big Creek
He gave her some advice
The folks became nice:
She ended up marrying Zeke!

Ain’t We Got Fun!

Wittiest Headlines of 1999

And the Beat Goes On…

`

  1. Include Your Children When Baking Cookies
  2. Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers
  3.  Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over
  4.  Plane Too Close to Ground, Crash Probe Told
  5.  Miners Refuse to Work After Death
  6.  Stolen Painting Found by Tree
  7.  Two Sisters Reunited After 18 Years in Checkout Counter
  8.  War Dims Hope for Peace
  9.  If Strike Isn’t Settled Quickly, It May Last a While
  10.  Man Struck by Lightning Faces Battery Charge
  11.  Kids Make Nutritious Snacks
  12.  Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half
  13.  Typhoon Rips Through Cemetery; Hundreds Dead

`

It appears that news never changes.  The printed word continues to confuse rather than educate.  Better yet, perhaps the printed word is merely humor for the day?!  Smile…have a nice day.

 

Year-end Levity

You might have a hard time avoiding reminders of the Almighty these days.  Billboards bearing “Messages from God” have appeared in over 40 states. To wrap up the year here’s some levity for you…  for the stressed at heart:

 

Let’s meet at my house Sunday before the game.

Loved the wedding; invite me to the marriage.

Will the road you’re on get you to my place?

That “love thy neighbor” thing   .   .   . I meant it.

Do you have any idea where you’re going?

Need a marriage counselor?  I’m available.

Follow me!

Keep using my name in vain, I’ll make rush hour longer.

I don’t question your existence.

What part of “thou shalt not” don’t you understand?

I love you…I love you…I love you!

We need to talk.

Don’t make me come down there!

 

 

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!

 

 

© Jeanne E Webster

 

Humor Coming On!

© Jeanne E Webster. All rights reserved and observed.

What a warm humid day almost in May! Baseball games are being played, gardens are being planted, flowers are being bloomed, birds are being nested, bees are being buzzed, rains are being gathered, winds are being blown, and poets are being silly!

The essence of this wordy spiel is the word BEING. “Let everything that has breath and life reveal its Creator, almighty God. (Psalm 150:6)” After enduring the winter doldrums, one cannot hold in the living words, action words, words of LIFE. Yes, it is a time to play, to rejoice, to give thanks to our heavenly Father, for all good things come from Him.

This time of year can be fickle, as this sampling records from the mighty pen of Robert Frost:

Two Tramps in Mud Time
“The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You’re one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you’re two months back in the middle of March.”

Good thoughts I’m sending your way to embellish your month of May. And as my dad always said: “Keep a liff upper stip!”

 

Why did the Chickens Cross the Road?

chick

 

© Jeanne E Webster.  All rights reserved

It had been an amusing couple of weeks, to say the least.  It all started when our neighbor’s chickens crossed the road and came to breakfast at our birdfeeder.  All 10 of them—eight hens and two roosters—cleaned up the stray bits of bread crumbs and seed set out for the sparrows, juncos, titmouse, woodpeckers, and such.  No, the blackbirds were not allowed…no way!  It is a posted area.  I’d show you the sign but can’t seem to find it anywhere.

The chickens quickly had their way with the breadcrumbs and scurried back across the road, faithfully returning on a daily basis every morning for a month or so.  We eventually felt sorry for them and brought home a bag of chicken scratch.  My husband was in his glory as he would strew the feed out front, followed by the throng of hungry chickens.  Their owner lived at the residence but seemed to be behind on “lunch-money,” as the entire flock would search the neighborhood frantically for grub.  We don’t know what the problem really was; there just wasn’t much activity over there…except for the chickens.  Anyway, my husband waved while getting our mail one day and told Charlie we’d been feeding his chickens.  He hollered a quick “Thanks,” saying he’d gather some eggs for us in return for the chicken scratch. 

Busily fixing dinner and all the trimmings one day, I noticed an egg crate by the back door as I set out some trash.  There sat 18 large brown eggs, all wet and smudged with dirt but unbroken and rather handsome.  I brought them inside and showed them to my husband.  We were so delighted at our neighbor’s kept promise. 

Early the next morning the chicken man appeared in his yard, gassing up his 4-wheeler and readying to go off deer hunting.  Bursting with a ton of holiday spirit, I hastily tore off a leg and most of one breast from our roasted turkey, threw in an enormous slice of apple pie, wrapped them in foil and sent my husband out to give to the poor fellow for giving us all those good eggs.  The man was tickled pink and asked my husband if we liked venison, to which my husband replied, “Sure.”  The fellow said if he got a deer, he’d give us some.  I guess he didn’t have any luck, as we haven’t seen any deer meat at the back door.

 The chickens continue to run the roads of the neighborhood, always stopping off to chomp up whatever is left over from the little birdies.  Their number is down to nine now, as one of the brown hens didn’t make it across the road fast enough.  I don’t think it was Henny Penny, as she was the fastest in the bunch.  Yes, I had gotten to calling them names already.  Makes it sort of personal, I guess.  I’m sure those black old buzzards had a heaping big breakfast that morning, whoever it was that was too slow crossing the road.  Not much left now ‘cept for a few leg bones and a feather or two.  I’ve heard the age-old question, “Why did the chicken cross the road,” a hundred times but didn’t really know the answer.  Well, now I know…to fix breakfast for the buzzards! 

It’s funny…the neighborhood sparrows have come to hang out in our boxwood shrubs out front.  They hide in them til the chickens are gone then the lookout peeks its tiny head out of the green branches, does an about-face and gives the all clear.  The air just hums as they all come swarming out of their hiding places and fly over to the feeder again.  I was telling my husband, I hope they haven’t come to take up residence.    I love birds, but enough is enough. 

Well, I must get to checking the crockpot for the country pork stew I set out this morning.  It’s almost suppertime.  You all have a good day now…ya heer?!