He snatched up a tin cup with his left hand and the coffeepot with his right, then poured himself a steaming cup.”
–Stephen Bly (Beneath a Dakota Cross)
Mornin’ to yuh, Pard. Sad day, sad day. Maybe you heard that ol’ Skinny McFarland died. Yep, some say he was the skinniest person alive, and that’s what led to his demise. Yuh see, Pard, he fell through a hole in the seat of his pants and choked himself to death. Ha, Pard–what do yuh mean absurd? No more absurd that some of the things these politicos spout at us. No recession is one cry. Another one looming in the near future–put on your masks!
Voices shouting, murmuring, crying, and whining all around us. My mercy, what in the world is a person to do? Well, I know for one thing this ol’ fence post is goin’ to have a seat, maybe in the ol’ rockin’ chair. Then sip on a cup of hot, strong, black coffee and above all trust in the Lord. Pard, can we afford to put our trust in the leadership when they can’t even speak properly? We’re in a mess an’ the only thing that’s goin’ to save us is if the nation turns back to the Lord.
When even those who are supposed to be in charge are confused, why that shows to go yuh that we have problems. I was talkin’ wiith another Pard this past week and he mentioned that he thought he was born at the wrong time in history. I’ve had many saddlepards tell me that same thing, and I’ve often thought it myself, but then the good Lord gives me a nudge. “I had a reason for you to be born at this time. You have a purpose.” Yeah, Lord I reply with a sigh, knowin’ that He’s right–He’s always right.
Ahhh, that coffee is sure ‘nough good this mornin’. Goes right on down to the gizzard and makes it tingle with joy. Listen Pard, as yuh head out to mount up, more than ever be wary of yur surroundin’s. There’s evil under every rock, so be careful when yuh have to pick one up. Don’t be dozin’ in the saddle as one of them snakes might cross yur path and yur hoss will throw yuh whether yuh tightened yur cinch or not. Keep goin’ onward and forward, but glance up at the sky ever so often for our redemption draweth nigh.
Vaya con Dios.