By contributing writer David Gregory
As you probably know, I am not a big fan of cell phones. An incident on my way to town this morning justified my dislike for them. As I approached the intersection at Main Street and Hwy 1125, the light turned green. The two cars in front of me had their left turn signals on and started making the turn.
As I started to follow, the closest on-coming traffic was a block away. Suddenly the driver accelerated and came through. I locked my brakes as the teen age girl with a cell phone glued to her ear barely missed me.
But, I have had some interesting cell phone calls from total strangers. In the past I frequently advertised horses for sale in a national horse magazine. I had a call asking if I still had a horse for sale. I told her about a very nice eight year old gelding that had been ridden in parades and gathering cattle.
In a few minutes I got an email from her saying, “My name is Hannah. I don’t want a ranch horse but a big sweet horse that can be ridden by a child in the city.” This made me think she wanted a horse for her little girl and not herself.
Later that evening I checked my cell phone and saw that I had had a call from Hannah. Someone answered my recall and I ask to speak to Hannah. When she came to the phone I told her that I was returning her call. She asked the price of my horse and wondered if he could be kept in a stable in her back yard at Austin, Texas. To read more pick up the September 2014 issue of North Texas Farm & Ranch.

By contributing writer David Gregory
I recently had an opportunity to eat some fried okra. I have eaten a lot of fried okra and really like it but this was whole pods of okra with the caps on that had been battered and deep fried.
I approached it cautiously but was surprised to fine that it was delicious. However it reminded me of stewed okra, being soft and slick inside.
After the first bite I was remanded of a story I heard many years ago while Mama and I were fishing in the Old Bowie Lake one night. There was no moon, the skies were overcast that night–it was as dark as pitch.
We had a Coleman lantern hanging from the boat out over the water. We were anchored in forty foot water near the tower where the water was drawn from the lake and sent to Bowie for treatment.
The light from the lantern invited all the various kinds of flying insects to join us. Many fell into the water, which served as chumming and brought in the crappie to feast on a bug dinner.
Soon after we got there we could hear the noise of boat oars dipping into the water as it neared and the splash when they threw out the anchor.
We sat quietly and could hear their voices from some distance talking about going out to different places to eat. One of them asked if the other had ever eaten at a little café across the Red River at Ryan, Okla.
When he got a no for an answer he said, “There’s a little café on the left as you go north through town that has pretty good home cooking.” Continuing he said, “The last time the wife and I ate there the waitress, who was also the owner, brought us a big plate of black eyed peas, little new potatoes, corn on the cob, stewed okra fresh from the garden and cornbread.”
When he asked for a second helping of stewed okra she said, “I recently stewed more okra that we could serve that day. When we close at night I usually take the leftovers and table scraps and throw them out the back door.
There is always two dogs laying there waiting for this time get a free meal. One is a big dog that’s a bully. He always catches everything on the fly to keep the little dog from getting it.” To read more pick up the August 2014 issue of North Texas Farm & Ranch.

By contributing writer David Gregory
It was an hour past my regular lunch time when the hunger pains began. I made a bologna and pimento cheese sandwich, got an opened bag of potato chips, a glass of water and moved to the patio. I sat snacking for a few minutes, leaning back with my feet in another chair, enjoying a slight breeze in a cloudy sky.
Suddenly I had the feeling I was not alone. Turning my head very slowly, I see a big fat doe watching me from no more than a hundred yards away. I limited my movements and very slowly took a bite, laid the sandwich down and picked up a potato chip. She stood like a statue and never blinked an eye. She watched me for ten minutes before casually grazing back into the woods.
From the corner of my eye I see a squirrel jump off a tree trunk and land no more than thirty feet from me. It sat up on its back legs, shook his tail at me and began chattering. I felt like it was giving me a cussing for invading its territory. As I continued eating another squirrel landed nearby and joined the protest.
I continued to sit motionless. A flight of red birds landed along the back fence. A representative was sent to check out the bare ground and small bowl some fifteen feet from me where I usually put out sunflower seed before I eat breakfast. When it reported back another came to be sure the first hadn’t overlooked any seeds. To read more pick up the July 2014 issue of North Texas Farm & Ranch.