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To My Wife – My overdraft at the bank. Maybe she can explain it.
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To My Son – Equity on my car. Now he’ll have to go to work to meet the
payments.
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To My Banker – My soul. He as the mortgage on it anyway.
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To My Neighbour – My clown suit. He’ll need it if he continues to farm as
he has in the past.
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To My Accountant – My
unpaid bills. They took some real chances on me and I want to do
something for them.
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To the Farm Advisor – 50 bushel of corn to see if he can hit the high
market. I never did!
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To the Junk Man – All my machinery. He’s had his eyes on it for years.
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To My Undertaker – A
special request. I want six implement and fertilizer dealers for my
pallbearers. They are used to carrying me.
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To The Weatherman –
Rain, sleet, and snow for the funeral, please! No sense in having good
weather now!
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To the Grave Digger – Don’t bother. The hole I am in should be big
enough.
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To the Monument Maker – Set up a jig for the epitaph, “Here lies a farmer
who has now properly assumed all of his obligations.”
