I went to the Beet Show                                                       
       In Fargo at the Dome.                                                          
It’s handy when it’s there                                                     
       And only twenty miles from home.

 
 
    I wanted so bad to talk about the fiscal cliff this month.  I know you all want to hear more about the brilliant maneuvering that saved us all.  But I just couldn’t find words that were descriptive enough and yet ones that Don, my editor, would let me print.  Instead, let me share a family story where my two-year-old grandson learns what it appears those in Congress have not.

 
 
    As most of you may have heard by now, it was pretty wet in the northern end of the Red River Valley this fall.

 
 
I lost a pair of pliers
   Again — again today.
How can something without legs
   So easily go astray?

 
 
    Those of you about my age may remember the title of this piece as the last line from the poem that comes at the end of the Moody Blues song, “Nights In White Satin.”  For several varied reasons, that line has repeatedly come back to my head this winter.

 
 
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The parts man slowly shook his head,
    Then grumbled as he frowned.
“I guess it looks to me like
    You tried for one more round.”