We were sitting on the veranda having our last coffee of the day. No one felt like talking, and none of us felt like listening, all we wanted to do, was look at the sky and breathe the cool New Mexico air.”
–Lou Bradshaw (Blue Valley)
Come on in, Pard, take a deep breath, the aroma of the coffee is fillin’ the kitchen. I sure can remember some of those days in the high country fillin’ my lungs with that fresh mountain air. Put that along with the coffee, add some bacon and bread to the aroma, an’ Pard, yuh’d almost think yur were in heaven.
Sometimes the air ain’t so cool, but it’s usually fresh. Sure does beat breathin’ that city air, but Pard, yuh might want to be wearin’ a mask. It’s startin’ up, the air soon is goin’ to be filled with the lies from the pit. Listen to them politicians an’ yuh soon learn whose side they’re on. The father of lies will be seen. Why Pard, sorry, go ‘head and start yur slurpin’, I can talk whilst yur a-drinkin’. But here’s the truth of the matter, there’s one slitherin’ with a slick, forked tongue, twistin’ the Bible, speakin’ contrary to the holy principles of God, an’ callin’ himself a minister, of sorts. See, Pard, we’re never far from the evil that lurks out there, an’ it’s everywhere. It goes from the high and lofty, the marble halls of government, all the way down to the slums of the cities. More and more the fight is upon us, and woe to us if’n we let down our guard for a minute. Pard, I’ll get yuh a refill when I finish my speechifyin’. We don’t wrestle with flesh and blood, but against powers of this dark world. When election time comes closer yul be seein’ what I mean. I’m jist tryin’ to get yur ready now.
Now where’s that coffeepot? I jist had somethin’ on my mind an’ had to be lettin’ it loose. I understand the need for a good cup of coffee. See the world wants yuh to compromise, water down the Word of God, live a life of compromise and relative truth. Why Pard, every mornin’ when I drink my coffee I ponder that over. That’s why I make it strong and black, to remind myself not to be compromisin’. Plus I enjoy the taste more than addin’ all those fixin’s that some folks do.
One good thing from yesterday. The spring rounds with the ol’ sawbones is over. No more visits until early fall. Ha, old, why most of them are kids with a computer who know how to read a lab report. When I go to the doc I usually feel better cause I look at some of those poor folk in there an’ they’re bad off. Some of them look like ol’ Bodacious, himself stomped on them. Others look like they where thrown off into a barbwire fence while others into a large patch of cholla. I feel sorry for them, for they look bad, I mean it Pard, bad. So I step a little livelier when I leave the office.
One more thing I jist have to be a-sayin’ before we part ways. Pard, know this thing for sure–the Lord is good! Yuh can sure be depenin’ on that all the way to the grave. Yuh know we can count on Him to be helpin’ us when we have to be a wrestlin’ with all those evil imps and varmints from the Pit.
Well, next time we’re together, the Lord willin’, on a Saturday it’ll be June. My mercy, time moves along faster than a full-blow’d stampede. Yuh be takin’ care of yurself, an’ if’n yur close by we’re havin’ dinner on the grounds at church Sunday. Don’t think Annie’s makin’ a pie, but she’s making bbq sausages, potato salad, an’ some cookies. But I’m tellin’ yuh, there’ll be some fixin’s. Have a good Lord’s day, an’ a week knowin’ He’ll be with yuh. Oh, an’ one more thing. Check yur cinch.
Vaya con Dios.