Labor Day 1986 was not a long weekend for Brice or me. We rationalized that by saying, Agnes Quam, our employee, was Labor, and Brice and I were Management. With no mail, there was no news except what came in on Saturday. We worked on other things. The year 1987 found us at home, with our daughter, enjoying an extra day off!

People who labor in factories deserve a three day weekend. Do people involved in telephone solicitation, or Internet solicitation get an extra day off? I doubt it, especially if they’re in India, or some other remote country.

Farmers and ranchers still have livestock to care for, cows to milk, maybe cattle to get ready to ship. These men and women get no holidays, just a good feeling when stock sells at premium prices. What needs to happen with crops? In weather as dry as this year, they watch for fires, and more often than not, fight fires. They keep us safe,

Harvests have happened; hay or straw have been baled and stored, hopefully not spontaneously combusting. Grounds have been prepared for autumn seeding. What have I missed? My Dad could tell me. He had small farms in Missouri and Kansas.

Kids are in school or started school after Labor Day. That hasn’t happened here in a long time. I started school after Labor Day and got out around May 24 each year. Our bus driver picked up his charges early that day, and took us to the Dairy Queen, where he paid for ice cream cones for everyone. If we wanted bigger treats, we paid the extra cost.

Even bus drivers we didn’t like treated us to ice cream cones. We don’t have a Dairy Queen, but kids could get an ice cream cone from the Wagon Wheel Cafe? It’s a nice idea next spring for local bus drivers to offer. Cones might make a mess but ice cream in cups would contain things.

Older kids often have cars. I didn’t have a car until I bought one. I used Mom and Dad’s occasionally, but only when I had play practice after school my senior year. Older kids sat in the back of busses. I usually sat in front; we only lived three miles out of town, maybe less. I haven’t thought about that in 49 years!

The summer of 2018 will be my 50th year since graduation. I can’t travel that far; I sent a CD to my 35th celebration. I’ve never attended a graduation, anniversary celebration, but I still think about fellow students and the years of public school in Boonville, Missouri.

This Labor Day will be like other days but my home care attendants, Brice and Ashley Schmid, will work and maybe get time and a half pay for their holiday efforts . . . or maybe not.