A Hot Time In The Old Tiny Shantytown Last Night

Farmer H thoroughly enjoyed himself last night, hanging out with the college boys. He confused them at first. By hiding their soda. In his mind he wasn't hiding anything. He had told me all day he was going to get a bag of ice and put their sodas in a cooler. Since the plan was to go down by the creek, near Tiny Shantytown, and build a fire, I assumed they would take the cooler down on the Gator. I asked Farmer H twice before they arrived if he had gotten the ice.

"Yeah. I put 18 sodas on ice in the cooler. And another 18 are in the refrigerator at the BARn." I suppose Farmer H thinks of soda like he thinks of beer. That amount should be plenty for six college boys.

With Farmer H away at the auction, the boys returned from their 4-wheeled tour of the neighborhood. The #1 son had strict instructions to stay away from the crazy dude who piles sticks in the middle of the main road because he says he owns to the center line, and nobody's going to get on his property if he can help it. Yeah. I'm waiting for a meth lab to explode any day. Or maybe he's got a body in his septic tank, too.

The boys went down into the woods. Not long after, I heard an engine out front. #1 came in for the box of food that Farmer H had left behind. And the soda. "Where's our soda?"

"Your dad said he put it on ice in a cooler."

"I've looked everywhere and can't find a cooler."

"He said he took it down to the cabin."

"There's no cooler at the cabin. We looked everywhere."

"I guess you can call your dad."

"Oh, he's sitting in the BARn. I'll stop and ask him as I go by."

Yeah. Farmer H had put the soda in the cooler. It was on the front porch of his cabin. Except it wasn't the usual cooler you might imagine, a red or blue Igloo with a white flip top. Nope. It was in a metal Coca Cola cooler that always sits on the front porch of the cabin. None of the college boys thought of it as a cooler. Whippersnappers.

This morning Farmer H said he thought the kids enjoyed themselves, and liked looking at all of his old stuff. I did hear them thanking him for showing his stuff right before they left.

"Did they see your Barbie?"

"What do you mean, my Barbie? I have TWO! They saw the one in the BARn. It was my first Barbie. Picnic Barbie. You got her for me for Christmas that year. She's got a checkered shirt."

"I am familiar with that Barbie and her origins. I'm talking about Coca Cola Barbie, on top of the slot machine in the basement."

"Oh, I guess they saw that one. But Picnic Barbie IS Coca Cola Barbie. That's why you got her for me."

"I know. I guess you took her to the BARn. I'm asking about the slot machine Barbie."

"That is NASCAR Barbie! My Number One Son got him for me. If she was on top of the slot machine, I'm sure they saw her. They were playing the tokens out of that thing."

We had a further Who's On First conversation about which boy was which. Farmer H is not real good with descriptive language.

"That kid with the hair all around his head."

"Um...?"

"I mean hair coming out from under his head."

"You've lost me."

"The one with the hair sticking out from his hat."

Excuse me, not being a hat-wearer, but doesn't the hair of most hat-wearers stick out from under the hat? I still don't know what point Farmer H was getting at, because I was all discombobulated by the head/hair/hat conundrum.

Anyway, I think everybody had a good time. Except maybe The Pony, who holed up in his room, loathe to come out, even to ask #1 the secret button code for playing a movie on his TV by using the satellite and TV and perhaps DVD remotes. I don't know exactly what set-up he's got in there.

I guess he can go movieless until Thanksgiving break, when the rocket scientist returns. There might be a little shred of truth to #1's statement, way back in childhood. "Pony, we're just like Pinky and The Brain. I'm The Brain, of course, and you are Pinky."