As I was leaving for work this morning, Woodrow, our year-old Cairn terrier, was nowhere to be found.

Iris, the addled Westie, was still asleep in the house; Lucy, the Westie who claims the alpha position in our pack, was playing with Bosco the kitten by the garage; Gus and Clover, sibling border collies, were off chasing rabbits in the tall CRP grass.

Woodrow is usually everywhere to be found, so I thought it odd that he wasn’t snapping at my heels when I climbed into the truck – odd, but not odd enough for me to be concerned. I was actually a little pleased at the thought that he might be off marauding some pesky rodent or snake, an action that had the added benefit of him not following me down the lane and up the road.

Woodrow, all 13 or 14 pounds of him, has recently decided that wherever the truck goes, he is supposed to go. He felt so strongly about this twice that he ate more than a half mile of the truck’s dust before turning back for home. We don’t promote this behavior, mind you. And he has been pretty good the past couple of days, deciding to stay when I ask him to stay. 

He completely outsmarted me this morning. As I made the turn onto the road, I caught a flash of Woodrow bursting from beneath the dense cedars at the end of the lane. He plainly wanted to go trucking. What he ended up with, though, was a couple hours of kennel time, which he never seems to hold against me.

Woodrow’s antics set the stage for my commute this morning. I mentally ran through all the good dogs that have graced my life, and it all reminded me of a fantastic Web site (www.GermanShepherds.com) devoted to German shepherds that I discovered yesterday. This is a comprehensive Web site with information about the breed, rescue, hard-core genetics, photos and much more. This site makes me want a German shepherd … but I think five dogs is enough for the time being.

I would be interested to learn of any and all comprehensive dog sites. If we discover enough of them, we will build a dog resource page right here at www.Grit.com.

Kate and I enjoy a relatively calm existence at home, but when it comes to potato salad, there’s nothing calm about it. Kate really loves traditional German-style potato salad – I like the stuff well enough, but in my book, it just isn’t salad. It is potato casserole, no doubt about it. And I can say that because I am pretty close to half German. Whoever heard of a salad that was served hot? It will wilt all the fresh greenery if you give it half a chance. Oh, wait, that sauerkraut is already pretty well wilted, isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, I love so-called German Potato Salad; it just isn’t salad.

The way I see it, when it comes to potato salad, there is only one approach. The recipe calls for potatoes, preferably new, red, thin-skinned potatoes; hardboiled eggs, preferably sliced or diced whole; garden fresh yellow- or white-skinned onion; fresh dill weed; celery; and any other interesting looking green garden herbs. Finally, you need some sort of dressing. I prefer Newman’s Own Italian (Caesar will do if your wife has thrown the Italian out). Oh, did I mention that Kate doesn’t like Italian dressing? What?

OK, so you boil the spuds whole (with the skins on) until they are firm … not soft and not crunchy. You can tell when they are done by periodically testing pieces with a little butter and pepper on them. Once the potatoes are just right, run cold water into the boiling pot and let them sit until cool. This is a good time to go pull an onion or two and some fresh celery.

Once the potatoes are cool, cut them into the right-sized pieces. I leave the skin on. I usually shoot for cubes roughly ½ inch across. Place them in a bowl and gently toss them with Italian dressing. Newman’s Own is a little too red for my ideal potato salad vision, but I like the stuff and what it stands for. When you have enough dressing … you will know (trust me) … cover the bowl and let it sit while you consume a frosty beverage under the hackberry tree.

On the way back into the house, cut some chive if you want a little more onion flavor. Chop the onion, celery and any other greenery into appropriately sized pieces and toss them into the bowl of marinating potatoes. Add as much mayonnaise as you like and mix the whole works gently. I like freshly ground black pepper, so that’s what I top this salad off with.

I can’t give you exact quantities for my favorite potato salad, because I never know exactly how many potatoes I will have the energy to dig. And if I am short a tablespoonful of mayo or Italian dressing, there’s no harm – you can’t tell Kate though, because if you don’t follow the recipe exactly, it just isn’t right.  

One thing about me that I know Kate and I both agree on is that wherever we wind up eating, if there is potato salad on the menu, I have to try it. I tried some the other day at a friend’s house, and it was yummy. Yummy enough that I asked for the recipe – it wasn’t German or French potato salad – it was lovely and delicious, the way potato salad is meant to be.  

What do you think? Is German potato salad really salad? Does mustard belong in potato salad? How about sour cream? What’s your favorite recipe for this ultimate summertime comfort food?

GRIT magazine readers have reveled in Jerry Schleicher’s humorous outtakes on rural life for more than a year now. Whether the topic is muddy roads, gimme caps, country cafes, dogs, cats, or how to distinguish farmers from ranchers, Jerry has that special knack for making a point, while making you laugh. Jerry is not only a talented writer; he is an accomplished cowboy poet, too. While GRIT doesn’t publish poetry, I have been on the receiving end of several of his priceless poems by e-mail. They invariably make me chuckle.

Jerry recently sent us a copy of his first CD. It includes such titles as “The Missouri Matador,” “Gimme Caps,” and 14 other original poems, all recited by the author.

My old truck has been retrofit with an AM/FM radio and a single-slot CD player, so I popped Jerry’s disc into the slot on the way to work this morning. And since I was driving with the wind, the only noise in the cab that made it hard to hear the poetry was my own laughter.

If you want to discover the REAL reason farmers don’t dress like ranchers or what can happen when a busload of field-tripping schoolchildren descend on a dairy farm, you need to give Jerry Schleicher’s The Missouri Matador CD a listen.

In April – I think it was April – I bought another old pickup. My friend Aaron Perry noticed the old International Harvester on an auction bill and told me about it. I was scheduled to be out of town the day of the sale so Aaron bid on my behalf and won the prize for less than half my maximum price.

One might wonder why I would need another old Binder – my wife, Kate, certainly did. I told her I needed a parts truck to keep my Daily Driver on the road, and this new-old truck, a 1965 two-wheel-drive Model 1200, had all kinds of good usable parts, including a really nice box. 

The first time Aaron, his dad and I made the trip out to Lincoln County, Kansas, to retrieve the pickup, there had been so much rain all we managed to do was get really muddy while my 2003 Dodge got stuck a few times. We wound up using the come-along to winch out the Dodge and trailer, rather than loading the International. After about an hour and a half of trying to pull the IH truck off its hillside resting place, we gave up and decided to beat it back down the ½-mile-long mud trail that was the only way in or out of the field. The fact that it had started raining again played a significant role in that decision.

About five weeks later, we redid the road trip and managed to retrieve the old pickup with little more than a bit of sweat and 25 gallons of diesel fuel. It’s amazing what a warm sunny day will do for your spirit; it didn’t hurt any that the ground was dry, either.

A few weeks ago, I chased the remaining packrats out of the truck’s cab, removed the seat and cleaned the interior up a bit. With the loader-equipped Kubota tractor, I managed to back the truck into my shop. Within an hour, I had the beast up on jack stands and its wheels off. There the old Binder sat, until I was hit with a lightning bolt of motivation last Saturday.

My dilemma now is whether the truck is really a parts truck, or do I need a spare running truck for those days when my Daily Driver needs some repairs. Kate is pretty clear on the answer to that question, but I’m not so sure. What do you think?

I was reminded today (as I pulled into the local BP to top off my old truck’s tank) that I had read a thought-provoking article on the expected downside of high fuel prices for small towns across the country. The gist of the report was that people will be less able to commute long distances to jobs in larger towns and cities, and that will, in turn, cause them to move closer to their jobs. The net result could be to further erode the already tenuous smalltown economy, and, ultimately, the rural lifestyle in general.

My optimistic side says the pull of rural living is so strong that people will figure out some way to keep at it. For those of us who do commute, we can carpool, keep our vehicles in top mechanical condition and modify our driving habits to save fuel today. And we can choose from among many fuel-miserly vehicles when it’s time to upgrade. I am holding out for a diesel-electric hybrid pickup myself, although I once owned a compact diesel pickup that routinely delivered over 50 mpg. It was a VW, of course.

As fuel prices put the pinch on your rural dream, consider embracing it a little more firmly, rather than running away. Save money on food by growing a big garden and preserving your bounty. Raise some chickens and learn to process them yourself. Cut and split your own firewood this year. Put that home- or farm-based business plan into action and avoid the commute altogether. Necessity is the mother of invention, and I think there’s still plenty of pluck out there to keep our dream alive.

If you have implemented any fuel- or money-saving strategies that will keep you from heading back to town, please share them here. I know I want to read about them, and I am sure plenty of others do, too.