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Scotty's Blog


   I have always loved harvest time. I only really started to understand what harvest was all about when I went to work for the Searle family driving truck. I drove a “Ten Wheeler” hauling the potatoes and sugar beets from the field to either the cellar for potatoes or the beet dump for the beets. It was this experience that helped me to understand why I could feel a


    I started this day off in a not so stellar manner. I woke up, got ready, hopped in my Suburban and pulled out of the lane. After I made it down the road about a hundred yards I noticed that my Suburban was not handling like it should.


   I recently had an experience that shook my culinary foundations. More specifically my love of pies. It came in the form of a cinnamon influenced trance.



   Yesterday I was talking with a great friend of mine. He has lived here in South Central Idaho all of his life and is well steeped in the colloquialisms of this area. These bits of local lingo are what I wish to discuss today.


   During our conversation there was a reoccurring phrase that kept popping up.

Well here goes my very first blog entry. First off thank you for reading. I really appreciate it.

Here you will find some musings that would be kind of difficult to convey on air. Somethings are just not meant to be on radio. Not that they are bad, just that they don't translate in that media.

For my first entry I would like to talk about my recent absence from the air.