A spooky moon hunkered low above the northern mountains, half shrouded in an icy fog bank, when I rolled out this morning. The whistles on at least two of the valley's firehouses sent an eerie chord reverberating shrilly through the cold darkness. That always worries me. Small town dwelling brings mental responsibility. When you hear that scream, chances are it is making that racket for someone you know, at least well enough to pray for, if nothing else.

Last night the near midnight quiet was split by shrieking sirens too, as emergency vehicles, one after another, raced west up the valley right past the house. At least a half a dozen sped by. Same goes on the worrying front. I don't know what happened, although I probably will find out when the paper comes. I lay awake all too long.

Of course some of that was going to the Farm Bureau meeting last night. I am on the county board and love it, but all that industry information, politicking, and socializing just gets me plumb wired up. It always takes me a long time to wind down to sleep. We have herd health this morning though, so I guess I had better get moving.

If any of you local readers want to, you can join NY Farm Bureau at a reduced rate during the ongoing membership drive. Call or email me and I will sign you right up. There is a great discount program now, with lower prices on everything from Dodge Trucks to hotel rooms. Don't let any issues you might have with the national branch of the organization scare you away from state and local. You don't have to look any farther than the farmers' tax exemption or the new licensing rules for driving heavy trucks to see what New York Farm Bureau does for you.