This is how I feel right now. I asked Ted a simple question about some scale tickets. Scale tickets are the little pieces of paper that are handed to a truck driver when he delivers a load of grain. They tell the date, ticket number, gross weight, net weight, bushel amount, moisture, destination, dockage, grain owner, whether it's being stored or sold (I could go on...but you see, I've already confused myself, and I know how to read one of these things.) You see, it's my job to make sure that the tickets are all accounted for and that they make sense. Today I was handed some tickets that came from a seed cleaning plant. These were foreign to me. I had to ask a simple little question about them. The above picture represents the explanation that I got. Apparently, things are a bit different when you sell seed beans...those are seeds grown for the specific purpose of being replanted...which you can't do (are not allowed to do by law) with all seeds. Ted gave me "the look," after his explanation which conveys "I just don't know why you
can't grasp this simple concept. You must be an idiot!"
Well, I've decided that there is just a farming gene and that I lack it. It is the gene that makes one understand (at birth) all of the idiosyncrasies that come with living on a farm. I've decided to try and not understand this "simple" little lesson that I was told, and instead, I shall go ponder this:

I have a much better chance at figuring this stuff out!