In a convent in Ireland, the 98-year-old Mother Superior lay dying. The nuns gathered around her bed trying to make her last journey comfortable. They tried giving her warm milk to drink but she refused it. One of the nuns took the glass back to the kitchen. Then, remembering a bottle of Irish Whiskey that had been received as a gift the previous Christmas, she opened it and poured a generous amount into the warm milk.
Back at Mother Superior’s bed, they held the glass to her lips. The frail nun drank a little, then a little more and before they knew it, she had finished the whole glass down to the last drop. As her eyes brightened, the nuns thought it would be a good opportunity to have one last talk with their spiritual leader.. “Mother,” the nuns asked earnestly, “Please give us some of your wisdom before you leave us.”
She raised herself up in bed on one elbow, looked at them and said: “DON’T SELL THAT COW.”
I want one of these cows too,( Jersey would be fine) and the Irish Whiskey!
I can’t even raise a chicken where I live Katie. The town council decreed themselves God and said F’ the rest of ya. Garden police patrol the neighborhood for “illegal growing of food” within a business district. We can’t have independent vegetable stands in the same town with the “Cabal” owned grocery store. No, no, no, we can’t allow this bartering gig going on! (obvious sarcasm)
It used to be farmers dumping their milk because of the corporate stranglehold and outright manipulation of the market in the dairy industry. The infection has spread to every market and how much more of this blatant ripoff will we tolerate? I’m not going off half-cocked, just keepin’ the machinery well oiled.
Psst. Millard…….Ninja chickens….They’ll never know.