Farmer H dug through a bag of trash today. He's one step away from being that guy you cross the street to avoid.
To be fair, (because I'm always fair in my tales concerning the subject of Farmer H), it wasn't total stranger trash. It was 45-year-old trash from my mom's family room desk. Stuff that my sister the ex-mayor's wife could part with. Used greeting cards. Expired batteries. Several pairs of 1980s eyeglasses as big as Chevy Chase wore in National Lampoon's Vacation. And pens and pencils. Uh huh. She just took a whole drawer and dumped them in a trash back. I was shocked that she didn't stop to caress each one. Truth be told, she DID read every card first.
Farmer H was not concerned with the cards. It was the pens he wanted to inspect. Okay. He hasn't gone through the whole bag of trash yet. That's on his agenda for tomorrow. But he found by accident ONE pen, and he chastised The Pony for not looking through them. Seems this ONE pen is a collector's item, worth FIVE DOLLARS! And it STILL WRITES!
Sorry for the caps. That's how Farmer H shouted it. I guess a guy doesn't find a 45-year-old Jack Daniels pen every day. Some guys may go their whole lives without finding even a single 45-year-old Jack Daniels pen.
I'm sure they don't realize what they're missing.