Hmm

 I may have ran into some small setbacks in my quest for the cabinet positions.

  It would seem that the suited dudes that talk into their lapels frown on unannounced visitation at the house. They do not take kindly when folks pull up in the driveway and blow the horn. It is a southern tradition to announce ones presence with a loud trumpet on the horn, and then to yell “hey, anybody home?”

  They were also very rude, as I got out of the truck, one of them tackled me, knocking the large box from my hands. Imagine that, a perfectly good cornbread, wasted, all over the driveway. I was only trying to be polite, and bring a gift.

You would think them guys had never seen a hunting rifle either, they swarmed all over the truck trying to get to my .243 hanging in the rear window. It’s not even my best gun.

  For some reason, the lapel talkers got real ugly when one of them went snooping in the back of my truck. I had to run by the feed store and pick up some stuff, so naturally I had some fertilizer for the maters, and some diesel fuel for the tractor. I always thought Washington was full of cow shit, but apparently they were running low, as they took mine.

Oh, and the jug of uncle Earle’s homemade brandy.