–D.C. Adkisson  (Redemption)

 

Come on in, Pard, and delight yurself in some of this hot joy-juice that’s a-brewin’.  Hot and strong…I made it.  Yuh can use the pump if’n yuh need to dilute it, but come on, man-up.  Ahh, that delectable taste and purtiful aroma…just the thing to get a body goin’ on a Saturday mornin’.  Plenty of doin’s today.

     What’s that?  “Windy”  Yuh say I was too windy yesterday?  Part, yuh have to understand that sometimes a body can’t get all that needs sayin’ down on one page.  Sometimes it take a bit more.  What?  I need to conserve trees?  Pard, yur tryin’ to pull my leg.  I don’t use enough paper to ruin a forest.  I do my best to keep the Echo down to one page, but sometimes there are things that need to be said.  I know, I know, ol’ Dresselhaus has a better way with words than I do an’ he can get his said shorter, but sometimes a feller has to lengthen his thoughts.  Yuh didn’t like it?  It could have been worse–it could have audio an’ yuh could have heard this ol’ fence post a-singin’ Never Alone.  That’d be worse than usin’ more paper for shore ‘nough it’d right start a stampede.

      I see yuh smilin’, the coffee suit yuh this mornin’?  Say, while I’m a-talkin’ I want to tell yuh something.  Listen, an’ listen tight.  This ain’t the same ol’ range.  This hyar deconstructionism, or postmodernism is sure done terrible things to society.  It don’t matter much where yuh go yuh can see the results.  Dress as yuh please, instead of dress for the occasion or to be moderate, or to be pleasin’ to the heavenly Father and those around yuh.  It don’t matter, yuh say?  Bah!  Dress might not make the man, but it shore ‘nough does show his attitude.  It isn’t deconstruction, it’s plan ol’ sloppiness.  I remember the ol’ sayin’ “dull knife, dull boy.”  Dress like a slob, yuh just might be one on the outside, but even worser on the in.  Pard, stay sharp, keep yur gun oiled an’ ready.  Polish yur boots for Sunday meetin’, and if’n the occasion calls for Sunday best, don’t be wearin’ flip flops, shorts, and a jersey to be showin’ yur hairy armpits.  After all, Pard, who wants to be seein’ yur mangy toes with those curled up nails from wearin’ those tight boots?

      Yuh, see I said that with a smile, not to downplay the truth of it.  Oh, say, if’n yur ’round Coldspring this evenin’ stop by Calvary Baptist Church.  They’re havin’ a chili cookoff.  Yep, I’m a-makin’ some chili, though not my regular recipe.  I’m makin’ chili from a recipe by the ol’ bard–Gene Autry.  Yep, it has a little different flavor.  Nope, I don’t put my ol’ boot in it, nor let Aloysius swim through it, but there’s somethin different, an’ I say that with a smile.  Come on by if’n yuh get the chance.

      With that bein’ said, if’n yuh swing by, be checkin’ yur cinch before leavin’ home, I want yuh to make it.  The weeks ahead of yuh, the Lord has things to be did, an’ if yur noggin’ is busted because of yur foolishness, why the work might just not get done or someone else will have to be doin’ it for yuh.

                 Vaya con Dios.

                    –D. C. Adkisson  (Mal de Ojo)

 

Come join me, Pard.  I was just a-sittin’ here, musin’ over the day yesterday and the past fifty years.  Yep, time does fly by an’ it’ll leave us wishin’ we’d taken more notice if we’re not careful.  Try the coffee, some of that Abeantogo coffee, an’ do some musin’ with me.

       Yep, Pard, I remember that day well.  My first born gal appeared on the scene.  It happened to be Good Friday, and we were fortunate that she was born on Friday, ’cause that night we got twenty or so inches of snow and would not have been able to get to the hospital.  While Annie was in the hospital room, they used to keep yuh in there for a few days back then, she had several four legged visitors come to her window.  Guess they wanted to check out the goin’s on.

       Then the time began to fly by.  We did the best we knew how to raise her in the admonition of the Lord, and must have done alright.  “Course, it was mostly the Lord’s doin’ we just tried to follow His directions.  From the first Sunday she was home she’s been in church.  No matter what folks say, yuh need to raise yur yunguns in church.  They need, more than ever now, the teachin’ of the Word of God.  Let me tell yuh, Pard, those early songs learned in Sunday School stick with yuh.  Simple, but loaded with truth.  Simple, but they teach yuh that yuh can be a-trustin’ in the Lord in and through every situation.

       My mercy, speakin’ of time flyin’, has it been less than a week since the hubbub of the eclipse?  Prophecies, omens, fears, and hoopla and some foolish notions were gathered ’round that day.  Sure it was a unique experience, but we forget that the Lord set it in motion those years ago when He said, “Let there be light…” and created the heavens and the earth.

       Pard, not only does the time fly, but lookee here–the coffeepot is empty.  Yuh must have been guzzlin’ it hard.  Ha, hit yur good spot down in the gizzard did it?  We don’t want to be wastin’ time, so I need yuh need to be on yur way, but on the other hand, we need to be enjoyin’ our time together and this wonderful brew that the Lord provided.

He also provided yuh with a noggin’ with some gray matter so youse could remember to check yur cinch.  Don’t want yuh leavin’ before yur time.

          Vaya con Dios.

                     –J. V. James  (Old)

 

Pard, whatcha goin’ t’ be doin’ on Monday?  Watchin’ the eclipse?  Don’t yuh be a-worryin’ none, for it won’t be the end of the world as some folks are a-sayin’.  But be careful Pard, I’ve heard some say that it yuh drink coffee durin’ the eclipse yuh might start to sweatin’ and wash yurself away.  In fact, there’s some out there that declare that if’n yuh got an itch and spill coffee durin’ the eclipse the next mornin’ yuh’ll wake up covered in warts.  Don’t know for sure–just a-sayin’ for yuh to be careful.

       Pard, yuh remember that eclipse back along the Gunnison when we was bein’ beset by a horde of evil?  It wasn’t an eclipse of the sun, but more of good and godly principles, kinda like we’re a-seein’ now in this country.  We was sittin’ there, sorta like the feller above.  Listenin’ to the rush of the water, a warm fire blazin’ away, and a pot of coffee ready for the drinkin’.  If’n I remember it right ol’ Tom was gettin’ ready to throw a line out in the river to catch a mess of trout for supper.  It was then that a feelin’ of downright evil came on us.  The air was thick with the imps prancin’ around.  Ol’ Tom near broke his rod throwin’ it down and landin’ on it with his knee.  It was a rough go for a spell, but we prayed, and prayed, until the air cleared and all was fresh again. 

       Yuh know, there are times when yuh just can feel evil, and other times when yuh can see it plain on a face as a child lickin’ the frostin’ bowl.  This eclipse ain’t no hoodoo, but it’s another sign of the times.  What was it the Lord said, there’d be signs in the heavens?  Yuh best be ready for them, for they’re a-comin’.  So many things happenin’ so fast, so Pard, take time to enjoy yur coffee.  Look up, and grab holt of new hope the Lord will be comin’ soon.

       Coffee’s good ain’t it?  Smooth, makes the ol’ gizzard sit up an’ smile.  Gettin’ a little nostalgic with what we’re a-talkin’ about, and readin’ what ol’ J.V. wrote.  Nice sittin’ here, lookin’ out the kitchen window, but my, wouldn’t it be grand to be along some stream up in the high lonesome?  Bacon, or trout, fryin’ in a skillet over a fire with a pot of coffee there for the pourin’.  Most likely, Pard, those days are over, but my, didn’t we have the times?  

       Be thankin’ the Lord for the hope He has given us, and for the times we shared.  And, Pard, yuh best not be mountin’ up durin’ the eclipse.  Yuh jist might not be able to see well enough to tighten that cinch.  

        Vaya con Dios.

                        –Louis L’Amour  (High Lonesome)

 

Pard, how many times have I done that?  Leanin’ against a rock, or back propped up against a tree.  Sometimes just sittin’ on the bank of a lake fishin’, or ’round the campfire–mornin’, noon, night, or anytime in between.  How many cups have I shared with pards over the years in similar circumstances or just as we are now, sittin’ ’round the kitchen table.  Good times, good fellowship, good coffee.

       I often think of that Saturday after the crucifixion, the day of quietness, at least in the natural realm.  Just think, Pard, those ol’ boys, and the ladies around them thought they were alone, that their world was a-endin’ when in fact it was really just beginnin’.  Once, in the eyes of the world they were common people, but now, though they didn’t realize it yet, they were children of the King–royalty.  If’n ol’ Peter would’ve known that then, whooeee, but the Lord knew they had to go through a time of mournin’, of drought, of missin’ His presence.

       Let me be passin’ on a story I read this past week.  Sorry, the source slips my feeble mind, but I want yuh to be thinkin’ on it.  Go ‘head take a deep swaller, I’ll wait ’til I see it runnin’ down yur gullet.  Here goes–  There was a Navajo Indian in Arizona on whose land oil was discovered.  He became a very wealthy man, but wealth did not change him.  He went on livin’ just as he was before.  The money piled up in the bank, but every now an’ then the old man would visit the bank and say to the banker, “Crops all dried up; sheep all dead; cattle all stolen.”  The banker knew exactly what to do.  He would take the old man into the vault, sit him at a table and place several bags of silver dollars in front of him for him to count.  After a while the man would come out and say, “Crops fine; sheep all alive; cattle all back.”  

       Good coffee…oh, let me tell yuh the jist of the meanin’.  See, if’n Peter had realized that Saturday, that dark, quiet, and fearful day, that he was buildin’ up an account in the heavenly bank, he wouldn’t have been so fretful.  Pard, we can do the same.  If’n yuh get down and out, yur lower lips sore from yur boots a-steppin’ on it, go count yur blessin’s in yur heavenly account.  My, don’t yuh know we have resources that we haven’t even considered.

       Yep, Pard, tomorrow is what is called Resurrection Sunday, so today, instead of mopin’ ’round, drink some coffee an’ start lookin’ at yur blessin’s.  The Savior has done risen, there’s no need to be wonderin’ ’bout that.  He’s alive, today an’ forevermore!

       Now sayin’ that, don’t go out an’ be doin’ somethin’ stupid with the Lord’s blessin’ and for mercy-sake, check that cinch before mountin’ or yuh just might wind up sittin’ next to yur heavenly account.

         Vaya con Dios.