Farmyard Matchmaker

I recently was flipping through the hundreds of free channels on my Roku TV and came across a rather unusual game show. The premise was that farmers would bring some of their animals, and the host would invite two different farmers at a time to come into the pen to see if they’d match well and get along, ignore each other, or if they’d act aggressive and territorial.

The host said, “Let’s bring out Bessie the cow and Herbert the horse!”

Well, the cow and horse came out, and at first seemed content to just be on stage together without interacting, but then Bessie slowly approached Herbert. She gave him a tentative nuzzle, and after a moment he leaned into it and nuzzled back.

”Fantastic! We have a match!” the host grinned.

“Next,” the host continued, “we have Peter the pig and Darren the ram.”

Out came the pig and sheep, and right away it was clear there were going to be problems. Peter grunted and snorted loudly, not taking his eyes off the ram. Darren, meanwhile, lowered his head, showing his horns and pawing at the ground. Before either could start to charge, the farmers swooped in and directed them off the set.

“Oh no! Looks like we have…” the host began, pausing and leaning toward the studio audience. They all sang out in chorus, “no match!!”

“And our final contestants today,” the host said, “are a first for us here on Farmyard Matchmaker. We have not just two possible friends, but two groups to try to match! Farmer Brown, who do you have with you today?”

Farmer Brown entered, replying, “I’ve got my flock of 5 geese!” The geese followed behind, beginning to peck at the set curiously.

“Wonderful!” the host crowed. “And farmer Alston, I see you’ve got chickens. Wow… there’s one, two, —”

Farmer Alston quickly interrupted, “Don’t count my chickens before they match!!”

A Forest Wedding

In a quiet glade in the forest, Janet the elk lived with her parents. She had recently met two potential suitors, and was planning to bring each back to meet her parents. Janet had grown fond of each in their way and was having trouble decided which one’s proposal to accept.

The first afternoon, she brought along a deer named Harvey. Harvey arrived late and stomped into the glade without a single word of apology. Janet and her parents served a lovely meal of clover salad, ivy blanched in pond water, and a dessert of assorted acorns. Harvey barely ate, complaining that back in his part of the forest they knew how to cook properly and this was all much too poorly seasoned for his taste. When Janet’s parents asked what he did for a living, he merely snorted and grumbled about having beaten all the other deer his age in fights and how that entitled him not to have to worry about silly things like earning a living. The evening ended abruptly when Harvey caught sight of another buck off in the woods and dashed off to pick a fight.

The next afternoon, Janet brought along a moose named Christopher. The family had just finished setting up another meal when Christopher arrived, bringing along a bouquet of daisies and a fresh bottle of sparkling spring water. The family sat down to eat together, and Christopher had nothing but praise for the food and the glade. Over a very pleasant meal, they talked about recent happenings in the forest, as well as Christopher’s travels to the nearby national park where he volunteered, helping the smaller mammals cross the busy roads safely. By the end of the meal, Janet and her parents had an invitation to come visit Christopher and his herd by the waterfall. As the sun began to sink behind the trees, Christopher bid them a fond farewell and headed back home.

Janet’s parents briefly conferred in hushed tones, and then returned to say to her:

🎵We wish you would marry Chris Moose. We wish you would marry Chris Moose. We wish you would marry Chris Moose, and not Harvey the Deer.🎵

Birthdays Happun

For your birthday, I decided to write some puns but I hope they aren’t so bad you want to punch or cake me. I just couldn’t candle it if they made you flee from my presents. If it’s all the flame to you, I’ll try really card to make it up to you. Maybe if there are enough of them you’ll forgift the whole thing.

[Written for my wife]

Weekend Concert

A few of my musically inclined friends put on a festival this past weekend. They’ve been planning it for months, and I helped out with some of the logistics. Since most of them don’t write their own songs, they picked their favorite bands and styles to cover.

My friend Ariel Mullens covered some 80s and 90s hits and decided to go with the stage name Ari M. A few friends sang sea shanties, and named their group after a fish and the color of the sea: Bass Teal. There was a couple who did some children songs under the name A Farmer and A Dell.

My friends Katy and Jane wanted to do a performance piece where they shaved the fur off wild animals, including a grizzly, but animal rights organizations found out about it. When I received strongly worded letters, I had to tell them, “You can’t make that bear naked, ladies.” They asked, “Really?! We have to come up with a new act?!” I replied, “Yeah, that’s what I Zedd.”

A local microbrewery decided to come up with some special sweet beers for the occasion. They named them after famous candies, and brought along a light and creamy 3 Musketeers ale, a golden crisp pilsner Twix, and a dark M&M chocolate stout. Sadly, when I asked about others they’d attempted, they told me that, try as they might, they could brew no Mars.

I got my family to help out, too. We had lots of cameras to cover the event. My sister Diane took camera one, my uncle David camera two, my brother-in-law Tom took three, my cousin Naomi had four, and my nephew Jack’s on five. My ma Sally was MC. Since he’s shy, we had to put my Pa, Nick, at the desk, though.

It was a complete success. At the end, they asked everyone involved to come on stage for a bow. I watched from the wings until they started shouting for me to come out as well. “You want me to come up there?” I asked, to which everyone replied, “Yeah! You, too!”

A whole brunch of trouble

I’d like to tell you a story about my weekend. It starts out with a very kind invitation from an elderly widow a few houses up. Let’s call her Mrs. Whitman. I hear she doesn’t get out too much and is rather lonely, so I guess she decided she wanted to get to know her neighbors a bit better. She invited us and a few of her other neighbors over for a casual get together this morning.

Mrs. Whitman is apparently something of an experienced chef because she prepared some truly amazing food, much of it from scratch. The rolls and cheesy grits were quite tasty, but the quiche really blew me away. I had to compliment her on it, of course.

The problem is one of the other guys who was there. We’ll call him “Tony”. Tony is really competitive and can find a way to turn anything into a fight. I don’t know how he does it, but it always bothers me and I sometimes let it get under my skin a bit too much. In any case, today Tony was in rare form, even for him.

As soon as I complimented Mrs. Whitman’s quiche, Tony had to jump in with an even more superlative compliment comparing it to something he’d eaten on a fancy European trip across France and Italy and how this surpassed even the master chefs there. Flattered, Mrs. Whitman insisted he have the last slice.

I really don’t know what came over me. I think I said something like, “Oh, but I must have just a taste more, it’s truly divine” as I quickly reached for the pie server to cut off just a bit for myself. Tony’s hand was already halfway to there and we locked eyes as we each laid our hands on it.

That must be why we didn’t notice that the cut glass pitcher of sweet tea was right there next to it. Of course, our sudden movement as we each went to pull the server our way somehow ended up going sideways, and we knocked the half full pitcher right over into Mrs. Whitman’s lap. It bounced off and fell to the hard wood floor. As it landed just wrong, the handle snapped off and shattered.

To make matters worse, that delicate pitcher had been a wedding gift and was one of the few things she had left that brought to mind her dear departed husband. Needless to say, the brunch was completely ruined in that single instant. Nothing either of us could say could repair the damage done. We all said our goodbyes rather awkwardly shortly thereafter and I don’t expect to be invited back.

It just goes to show - one mad grapple spoils the brunch.

Oh, and if you're feeling bad for Mrs. Whitman? She really only invited us over because she’s the leader of a local grannie gang. She wanted us all out of our houses so her people could break into our places.

Luckily we have a good security system, “Safe Hello”, which caught them and set off an alarm. By the time we were on our way out, the cops had already arrived at the street and were rounding up the culprits.

Here’s the real twist, though. Tony is one of their enforcers and was in on it too! So we know due to Safe Hello Tony’s Whitman’s friend.