I'm ok. We don't know about you.

I thought I should let you know that my prostate tests have come back good. The tests showed some abnormal cells so they will give me another blood test in 2.5 months. All of you know me and so know that all I'm pretty abnormal anyway. It's a crapshoot but I'm still rolling sevens.

Yes, that's my prostate. It's big, really big. The first time I was biopsied, the doc called me in afterwards and said ” Well Jim, you don't have cancer but that's one honkin' big prostate. It's huge. I mean, it's within normal variation but if you'd been born a woman, you'd probably had a DD cup bra size.” My first thought was that if I'd been born a woman, I could have been a porn star. As it is, I can't pee worth a darn. It's just another example of life being unfair to men. It's not like you can brag about it either. You can't show it off in the locker room or by wearing tight pants as you walk down the street.
I've got a lot to do on the farm but it's really cold and I think I'll stay in.

Happy New Year

We come to the new year with fear and celebration. We have no idea where we're going but we're celebrating anyway. Some times ,you just have to party.
We spent New Years Eve at the mother-in-law's. Stacey and I cooked. More accurately, Stacey cooked the good stuff and I had made a substandard lemon meringue pie. I need to practice my pie crusts. Since Stacey is the Princess of Pies, I don't get much practice. The filling was good but the meringue was a bit undercooked . The little beads of weeping were pretty though. After dinner, I was punished for my error by watching Sex and the City 2. That's what happens when you leave your suicide pill at home.
We went home well before the idiots packed the roads and watched the ball drop from the safety of our own living room. Happy New Year!
New Years Day, we hosted a great party of friends here at the farm. There was much food and good conversation. It went on for hours and seemed over in no time. It was the most enjoyable party for some time and a great start to the year.
I finally got my sheep sorted out. I've culled heavily trying to eliminate the worst of the stock, the old and the too small. I called the Arab meat market planning to sell them cheap but the owner didn't come out. I decided to send them to auction even though that has never worked well but I needed them gone. I just had too many sheep and they were burning through my hay way too fast. I called the local stock hauler and sent them off.
The water heater started leaking. I had to tap the farm fund to pay for a replacement. This put us well below the property tax payment. I borrowed a cousin to help install the water heater and we now have working hot water again with no leaks. In between the 3 trips to town for parts and a new propane torch ( Oh look, my hand's in a ball of flame. AHHHHH!!!), the check from the auction house came. $3870.00!!!!!!!!!! That's after haulage and auction fees. Those culls went between $115 and $145 each. Screw the Arabs, this is real money. Now we can pay the taxes and the insurance. I may even be able to afford seed to plant the back of the farm. Whoo Hoo!
The Laubacher Theory of Karmic Balance has come into play. A visit to my doctor led to a battery of blood tests and I flunked the PSA test again. This led to another prostate ultrasound and biopsies. The biopsies aren't back yet so I don't know if I'm in imminent danger of death yet but the doc was bored with the ultrasound. The good news is that the wand is smaller. The bad news is that the biopsies hurt a lot more this time. I filled the vicodin prescription this time, went home and vegged out for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, I took a pill before going to bed. Vicodin affects me strangely at night. I don't really sleep. I just drift in and out of dream state all night. Have you ever dreamed of giant chickens tearing people to pieces and Col. Sanders leading a counterattack with muzzleloading cannon and track mounted chicken fryers? Say no to vicodin at night. Happy New Year.