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The Manure Spreader: Homemade

Tim Moffett for Progressive Dairyman Published on 24 May 2016

The thought of “homemade” usually brings a warm fuzzy feeling combined with magical rainbows; however, not all homes should be manufacturing plants. My dad always said, “Homemade products aren’t always what they’re cracked up to be.

If you don’t believe me, look at you and your brother; you were both homemade.” My brother and I always get compared to our cousin Chad – who happens to be a doctor. Chad was made in a chalet overlooking the Swiss Alps.

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I was in a Chinese restaurant, and the owner kept telling me the dim sum was homemade. Listen, I’m not an expert in geography, but I’m more than 15,000 miles away from China. If this dim sum is homemade, it should be kind of stale.

I think in order for you to tell me I’m eating a homemade meal, I should really be in your home when I eat it. I make a pretty mean ham sandwich, but I don’t think you should have to pay another $3 because I made it on my kitchen counter.

My granny was famous for her “home remedies.” She had to be. The nearest store or hospital was more than 60 miles away. She always used vinegar or whiskey, whether she was removing a stain or changing a flat tire. My grandpa nearly died from an ingrown toenail after Granny soaked his foot in vinegar and fed him Jack Daniels.

From what the hospital said, his liver was pickled. If the word remedy has home in front of it, it’s really not a remedy, and chances are the FDA and OSHA have never heard of what you are doing. If I’m ill, the only home remedy I prefer is the one from my doctor’s home office.

Homemade furniture is great – if while watching T.V., you like leaning to the left. Homemade furniture might appeal to you if you like milk crates and know how to decorate a concrete block.

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Our family has a dresser drawer which is an antique family heirloom built by my great-grandpa Jesse. None of the drawers open, and it only has three legs holding it up, but we keep passing it to the next generation. Why? To remind our family that we are farmers, not furniture makers. Plus, we felt sorry for Jesse because he cut off two fingers while making the fourth leg.

I’ve never been one to give homemade gifts. I just don’t have the talent, and there happens to be a Dollar Store near me. The best I ever did was give my nephew a pair of my old socks and told him I knitted him some mittens. In fact, in pre-school, my homemade art projects were always classified under “super special.”

Sometimes I think it was because of the way I looked when Mom would give me a homemade haircut while wearing my homemade hand-me-down red tablecloth sweater with my Cool Whip container lunchbox.

I realize “homemade” can be good if it’s from your own home – but why is it that the largest place to buy “homemade” goods is on a tailgate between the live fishing worms and boiled peanuts?  PD

Tim is a Florida dairy farmer and comedian. See him at Tim Moffett - agricultural comedian, speaker and farmer.

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