a story of Southern agriculture

FarrrTHUR 25: You Can Tell Them Where To Park It



Hi there!

Thanks for stopping by to go FarrrTHUR in Agriculture this week.


If you’re really ready for something profound and informative this week, you’ve come to the wrong place.


I know.  I know.  You don’t want to be disappointed in your quest for food agriculture understanding,

consumer confidence,

farmer sanity and

peace on earth.


Your needs and motivations are important to me, but this week, all I’ve got for ya is a lighthearted highlighting of a common skill.  It’s a skill for addressing logistical matters in life.  In our farm existence it doesn’t come up every day, but when it does I find myself reaching for the skill to…


…tell them where to park it. 



Y’all it’s a skill we need from coast to coast, inside and outside the city limits, on and off farm, in board rooms and on pastures.



A while back I was minding my own business – just working away on my tasks and putting together a snack for the farm hands – when I heard the clang-clamor-roar of our livestock trailer being towed by our big dually truck.  It rumbled up the driveway from the barn where weaning was taking place.

Then all was quiet.

No. they. didn’t.


cinna mama-1

Yes, yes, some member of the crew did.  I spied it outside our bedroom window.


A few steps later I was in the kitchen…

cinna mama-2

…and the previously refreshing draft through the opened door was unmistakably poopified.


Of all the places they have to park that thing, why do they leave it right outside my door?  Really?  Don’t they know they ought to keep me happy? 

It’s not smart to mess with the snack coordinator.


cinna mama-3


The aroma of Cinnabon Orange Sweet Rolls from Pillsbury* was never meant to be laced with manure,

blended with hints of urine

and highlighted with traces of grass burps.

`Twas a sensory debacle of nauseating proportions.

A crying shame really.


After stifling a heave, I grabbed the rolls from the oven and smeared on the citrus glaze.

I had a statement to make.  Sweet rolls would punctuate my presentation quite well.



I gathered the last of the snack items and headed down the hill, around the corner and across the creek to the big barn.


cinna mama-4



On the way, I took a survey.

Buddy, do these smell good?

cinna mama-5


Oh yes, mama!  They smell great!


cinna mama-7


Okay, Buddy, next question.  Do these appeal to you poopified by the stench of the stock trailer parked behind me?

Well, mama, I do like to eat poop.  I’ve never had poop with any orange-glazed-Cinnabon deliciousness like you have there, but I could try it for ya.


No taste-testing today, Buddy.  Just give me your best guess.

Okay, mama, my best guess is – I can’t say as I would mind the two together if you were to give me a sweet roll to taste while the stinky stock trailer is here.


cinna mama-6

There was no sympathy forthcoming from the geriatric Lab in my life.  However, it was quite fun to overload several circuits in his food-driven-brain.



Next stop – the donkey donks.

cinna mama-8

They agreed with me, because they’re incredibly smart and clean.



Final stop – the barn where my Farmer and company were weaning and sorting cattle.

Would you like a sweet roll, my Farmer?


cinna mama-9


Yes, thank you!


cinna mama-10


I jerked the pan away leaving him with only a drop of orange glaze on his manly farmer hand.

What?  What’s….What?


Have I ever mentioned how I love it when I somehow manage to cause my Farmer to stutter?  It’s rare that I gain the verbal upper hand.


Before you may have a sweet roll, my Farmer, I need to know who parked the stock trailer right outside our kitchen, so that he can move it (never mind that I know how to drive it)!  And, while I’m telling you where to park it, I need an apology for the poopification of my Cinnabon baking experience this morning.

Oh, by the way, there are two – that’s T W O – sweet rolls in this pan for you.


Smile.  Bat eyelashes.  Smile more.  Let the baked persuasiveness have this moment of silence to do its thing.


Wouldn’t you know – nobody owned up to it, but the trailer did get mooved.


cinna mama-14

 Annie was the only other girl around that morning, so we chatted about successful parking suggestions.



Nestled into my love and enthusiasm for feeding the world is this subcategory of satisfaction in how business mergers,

peace talks

and family days

are discussed over these gifts

we steward from God’s good Earth.


Often, food is a conduit for great favor with man… and most certainly with beast.




Farmers – fueling diplomacy,

nourishing people,

filling silent supper table moments with something to chew on

and empowering tasteful assertions




Emily Grace


Has a baked good ever helped you “tell someone where to park it”?




*Disclosure – Pillsbury and Cinnabon don’t know me, much less pay me to blog.

Now that I have put their product in a “poopified” circumstance, I like to imagine them smiling – shaking their heads in fun – and making the manure-fertilizer-wheat fields correlation since they kind of depend on flour.  Overall, I hope they will forgive me for publishing such a word in conjunction with their product.

Regardless, if you have holiday baking and house guests in your future, do take note of these sweet rolls.  They are delicious and expeditious!


FarrrTHUR along you’ll know all about us!  Keep Reading!

11 Responses to “FarrrTHUR 25: You Can Tell Them Where To Park It”

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