You best not ask about our cash flow....

The coons are back in the feed room. Well, not right this minute, because I have secured the building again. There were seven chewed out holes for the nightly feeding frenzy, and I had not seen them until we moved the feed to the clean side of the room due to cleaning up. I patched the holes with tin, roofing tin cut to size and nailed in place. The entire feed room now has a barrier of a foot high tin nailed on.

I won't try to estimate the loss of feed to the masked bandits, and that makes the hair on my neck stand straight up. The subject of trying to save a nickel has been discussed practically to death the last few days. We are starting the yearly deal of trying to keep from borrowing money to pay taxes. It shrinks up your gut and causes your mouth to dry up. I have only half an appetite and apple cobbler does not entice me at all. I have eaten three quarters of a bottle of anti heartburn pills and it still feels like I swallowed a hot coal.

The whole deal about the love of money being the root of all evil is true, but the scuffling around to get some of that stuff is the root of a lot of misery. Sure, some money passed through this rock pile during the year. Sure, it made us comfortable and most days we were all smiling. But we spent the cash on keeping this outfit going. Things like building fences and all the things that cost an arm and a leg.

I have kept the receipts in the usual place all year. The dash of my pickup is always secure and handy. They get a little parched and faded at times but still can use them. We went through my feed tickets last night and I can't tell you how sad it made me! I should be looking at super fat animals according to the tonnage we recorded. All the animals, including me, are in excellent shape, but who expects the feed costs to compare to NASA's payroll?

That isn't the only shocking figure we ran into. We probably own the only 1984 tractor that is part-by-part new! The hay baler is also getting newer each season. The parts do not come cheap and the labor, even if done by the offspring and me and counted in hours worked, sure mounts up. I am counting each minute of labor and my CPA is going to take that off my bill, I hope! Who knows what the law will be this year?

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, you best not ask about our cash flow unless you want to see a man-sized blow! I want out of here far away from the adding machine and the piles of receipts. I do not want to talk about it, think about it or be sick over it anymore! I realize we are not the only outfit that will have the blood squeezed out of them but, please, don't figure on discussing it at the round table!

Let's all talk about the raccoons!

Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette-area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.

Editorial on 01/11/2017