September/October 1979
By the Mother Earth News editors
" One of the most annoying things about weather forecasts is that they're not wrong all the time, either.
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"Simple rules for saving money. To save half: When you are fired by an eager impulse to contribute to a charity, wait, and count to forty. To save three-quarters: count to sixty. To save it all: count to sixty-five.
Mark Twain
Well sir, summer has about wore itself out here at Plumtree Crossin'! An' jist as crocuses 'n' high cricks announce the spring, the onset of autumn has its own observable hallmarks.
There ain't a young'un in the county, fer instance, what hasn't noted (with a sinkin' feelin' in the pit of his er her stomach) thet the ol' blue and yeller "Back To School Sale" sign's gone up in the Gen'ral Store's plate glass winder again ... tellin' about the availability of an assortment of jellybean-colored pencil cases an' them scary-thick packages of bluelined paper.
On t'other hand. the changin' seasons are also accompanied by omens of a more agreeable nature. The gray squirrels out in the Jarvis brothers' woods is steppin' up their activity a notch er two, which causes some folks to think about fresh hick'ry nut bread ... an' inspires other individuals with visions of thet first cold mornin' under the trees, with th' familiar heft of a .22 single-shot stretched across their knees.
An' of course nigh onto ev'ryone from Lick Skillet to Possum Trot Mountain is beginnin' to anticipate the Barren County Fair. As you know, thet partic'lar shindig is jist about the pinnacle of the area's social season, an' most enny man, woman, er child ye'd care to mention—as well as a few whose names is better left unsaid—has got somethin' what they plan to show off over at the fairgrounds.
In point of fact, even the ol' reprobates who swap tall tales in front of the store has got theyselves a tad het up over the comin' festivities. Cleedy McCannon, fer example, is in the process of puttin' the finishin' touches on an assortment of hand-carved bass plugs to enter in the whittlin' competition, whilst Lafe Higgins claimed—jist the other day—thet his flock of geese has finally hatched him out a fer-sure blue ribbon winner.
Ol" Man Bartlett took exception to Lafe's statement, howev'r. "Why," Ott pointed out, "ev'ry one of them blamed birds is uglier than a mud fence covered with toads, wilder'n mountain scenery, an' mean enough to fright the fleas off'n a coon hound. You cain't tell me thet enny of 'em could set an egg an' not hatch out somethin' strange an' scaly."
"Yer right there, Ott," Doc Thromberg tossed in, "an' speakin' of unnatural critters, I'll be danged iffen I didn't hear thet Fletcher Roebuck's boy, Clovis, were goin' to be givin' a speech right after the 4H cattle judgin'."
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