–Ernest Haycox  (The Earthbreakers)

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Whooee, Pard, it was dark this mornin’.  I wanted to linger in the bed, but knew that yu’d be over soon.  Out in the woods there was nary a light that I could see, not even the stars were shinin’ as I looked up through the trees.  Made me wonder, that dark gloomy day, that Saturday after the crucifixion when the body of Jesus was in the tomb, did the stars cast their light on the earth?  Perhaps it was overcast, overcast like the hearts of the followers of Jesus.

     Oh, let me pour yur coffee.  I don’t mean to be negligent, Pard.  Sometimes I get caught up in my thoughts.  Never had this particular brew before.  The middle granddaughter brought me coffee from her spring trip to Colorado, Delta I think it was.  Made it strong, as usual.  Ahhh, not too bad, not too bad atall.

     I was readin’ from ol’ Luke where he said that Jesus, “Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit.”  Look at that Pard–that is faith.  In His dyin’ He never wavered from His mission and His fellowship with the Father.  Pard, Jesus never doubted that He would rise again.  He didn’t much look forward to the agony and death, but after that, yuh might say it was a cinch He would win, defeat the grave and death, and rise again.

     But ol’ Peter, and the rest of the bunch were livin’ in a fearful time.  They had lost hope.  Somewhere along the line they must’ve got together again.  Maybe they came to wherever they were stayin’ one by one.  Perhaps there were a few of them huddled in there already, moaning, fearful as they saw their Hope die.  Yep, seems they had hope in death but not in the Master, at least not the eternal type of hope.  Not only was it dark that Saturday mornin’ it was dark down in their souls.

     Smell that brew, take a good taste, breathe deeply, then say “ahhh.”  Makes yuh feel good.  Pard, that Saturday was a bad day for the disciples.  But as ol’ preacher Lockeridge preached:  “Sunday’s comin’!”

     Let’s enjoy our coffee, ready for the dawnin’ of a new day.  We don’t live in forsaken hope, He is risen!  Hope is alive in our breast, and yuh better get yurself ready ’cause Jesus is comin’ back–soon.  There’s are new hope.  The death and resurrection are past–hallelujah!  Listen now for the hoofbeats.  Better have that spiritual cinch tight, ’cause Jesus is comin’ back just as He promised.

     Vaya con Dios.

                    –Luke Short  (First Campaign)

 

Mornin’ to yuh, Pard.  My mercy, another month done gone by.  Where does the time go?  What did I accomplish this month, or so far this year?  My, my, my…  Well, ‘fore we get on with this last Saturday of the month, let’s enjoy our mornin’ coffee together.  Ahhh, what a delight.  

     Pard, I’ve had a thought brewin’ in my mind all week, but first I saw somethin’ yesterday that brought the shivers to my innards.  My land, how crazy can people get?  Stupid, fools, insane, or just plain morons?  Here was the semi-growed man, I’d say in his mid-twenties to thirties, in a pigpen with a pig’s face coverin’ his an’ he’s oinkin’ and gruntin’ and slobberin’ like the other pigs in the pen.  He says he identifies as a pig?  Let that sink in.  Now, truly, I have seen some people in my time who look like pigs, and eat like pigs, but never one who has claimed to be a pig.  Makes me wonder if’n he’s there for supper ready for his slop or if’n he becomes human when it’s dinner-time?  

     Fellow, I follow once in a while, made a good observation.  If these fools, these morons, who claim they’re animals want to really be like them then they should go out into the wild and live.  The furries:  wolves, coyotes, gooses, bears, and now the hogs, they should go out and live like their wannabe counterparts.  Hmmm, think they’d make it?  They’ve heard the call of the wild, well, then, morons go out and join them.  But let me warn yuh, it gets cold out there, and your wannabe cousins have sharp teeth and they’d like nothin’ better than a stupid morsel of flesh to come their way.

     Go ahead, Pard, drink up, the pot’s not half-empty yet.  Now, to my main thought.  Tomorrow is Palm Sunday meanin’ that Easter is only a week away.  Ask folks what the first thing that comes to their mind on Easter an’ a good many of them would say, “eggs.”  They might add “peeps” or chocolate, and the real pious ones would say “church.”  What have we done to Easter?  It should be a somber time.  One of remembrance and rejoicing for it was the day that brought our redemption.  Yuh want to dye eggs, fine, no problem, but let’s keep it in perspective.  Do a little teachin’ on the subject of the egg and more importantly of the Christ who died and rose for us.

     ‘Nough said this mornin’.  Keep yur mind focused on the things of the Lord, enjoy life, but do it with proper perspective or yuh jist might wind up wallowin’ with that pig-man in the sty full of mud.  That’s worsen that yuh forgettin’ to check yur cinch.  That’s jist forgetfulness, the other is delusion.

     Vaya con Dios.

                    –Ernest Haycox  (Saddle and Ride)

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          “Spring has sprung,

          And grass has riz,

          And everything that looks

          Like a weed, is!”

Now, Pard, that’s some fine verse for the springtime that is now upon us.  It was given to me by the missus, so reckoned I’d use it since Spring is now officially here.  These last few weeks has shor been some ride with the weather.  Cold, snow, and then some of the hottest weather on record in Arizony.

     Careful, Pard!  That coffee’s hot!  Yuh should be testin’ it before yur burn all the hair off’n yur tongue.  Be aware, cayn’t yuh feel the heat before yuh open your mouth?  That bring me to a thought.  I was out driving the highway the other day, yep takin’ my life into somebody else’s hand, and I noticed, and it’s not the first time, that there is little awareness of folks out there in those steel mounts.  They go over into yur lane likes they own it, then swerve back.  They’ll move from the far left to make their exit four lanes over to the right.  Just not bein’ aware of where they are or what they should be a-doin’. 

     Pard, lack of awareness can get yuh hurt mighty bad, or even kilt.  Yuh need to be aware of yur surroundin’s, of possible obstacles.  Why even walkin’ in the woods, yuh must be aware for an ol’ rattler or copperhead may be lurkin’ nearby.  Yuh might step in a hole, and break an ankle or worse fall on yur noggin’.  Pard, lack of awareness can get yur tonsils burnt if’n yuh swaller that hot coffee too quick-like.

     Yuh ponder that whilst I takes a swaller now.  Ahhh, good-delicious!  Pard, the same is true travelin’ our journey on the gloryland trail.  Ol’ slewfoot is out there with a myriad of devices, snares, traps, and deadfalls.  We travel, but we must be aware of what is around us.  Why we know he’s a prowlin’ ’round like an ol’ mountain puma.  But as the ol’ Apostle said we are not ignorant of his devices, traps, and snares.  An’ for shor our Guide will be pointin’ them out if we are aware of His instructions.   

     Pard, the good Lord has put another day, and hopefully another week in front of us.  He has made them for us, but that don’t negate our responsibility to be aware as we go through each and ev’ry day.  Pard, we have to cinch up tighter, look harder, sit straighter and have a clear focus on the trail ahead of us and what might jump out from the sides.  As the pioneers and settlers came they had to be aware of their surroundin’s.  There were vicious varmints, snakes, rocks and ruts in the trail, hostiles, and renegades waitin’ to do harm to the unsuspectin’.  It hasn’t changed much–the enemy is the same and he is still waitin’ for us to be droppin’ our guard.

     So Pard, check yur coffee ‘fore yuh drink.  Tighten yur cinch, keep yur Bible handy an’ yur gun loaded.  Keep movin’ onward an’ upward.

     Vaya con Dios.

                    –Luke Short  (Donovan’s Gun)

 

Mornin’ to yuh, Pard.  Come on in, grab yur mug, and… no, not yur face yuh fool, the cup in the cabinet.  Don’t try to be funny with me this mornin’.  Speakin’ of bein’ funny, remember those days of watchin’ Looney Tunes?  Then there was that ol’ peckerwood–Woody with his laugh.  Those were funny so don’t yuh be tryin’ to do the same.  Why, there’s plenty of cacklin’, howlin’ bureaucrats that have already beat yuh to it.

     Now to be polite, I won’t mention no names, but there’s one high-up guy who said ICE would be able to remove “tens of billions of people” from voter rolls if a certain law was passed.  Now, I can’t count that high myself, I run out of fingers an’ toes, but I know we don’t have billions of people in this country.  Or how ’bout this one from Minneysota.  A lawmaker has requested a study on the “benefits of shoplifting.”  Hmmm, ponder that, ‘specially if yur a store owner or manager.  Shoplifting has its benefits?  Guess it depends if’n yur lookin’ at it from the perspective of the lifter.  Then there’s the male equivalent of Mad Max who proclaimed, “We’re not celebrating America’s 250th birthday.  We worked 246 years and never got paid.”  Go ahead, an’ ponder that one as well.  Makes me wonder how much is in his bank account.

     Watcha doin’ lookin’ in yur cup?  Don’t yuh be worryin’ none.  That coffee won’t make yur gizzard frown, nor yur innards curdle.  But maybe if’n I make it a little stronger, folks will go ‘way from makin’ cinos.  Lattes?  Yuh like moo-juice in yur coffee sayin’ it soothes the stomach?  Pard, yuh ain’t talkin’ sense.  But I do remember when I was a homesteadin’ back in Louisiana they had something called, cafe au-lait that was drinkable for dessert.

     But back to the new form of looney-tunes.  They must be havin’ tryouts or something ’cause everytime yuh look at the news there’s someone spoutin’ the comedic phrases.  What was it the ol’ apostle said, Claimin’ to be wise, they became fools…!”  Can folk be so willfully blind that they can’t see how foolish their words and actions are?  My mercy, honestly an’ seriously, they are not funny.  More like vomit-fodder.  Their words and actions are downright shameful, an’ it’s scary.  Scary for this country right now, why I saw they’re havin’ a funeral for the Iranian tyrant that was killed tryin’ to make him a martyr.  Scary for the person, for one day they’re gonna have to bow before the Almighty King of the Universe, an’ let me be tellin’ yuh this, that won’t be a pleasant experience for them.

     As my ol’ Grandma would say, “Lord, help us through the jungles!”  We surely need His help, strength, an’ guidance in this ol’ world in which we live.  Pard, it won’t be my coffee makin’ the cream in yur gizzard curl, it’ll be the foolishness of those bureaucrats.  Yuh be havin’ a good week.  An’ don’t make me shake my head at yur foolishness, don’t be one of them cartoon characters we see in the news–check yur cinch.  Surely they didn’t ’cause we see evidence that they musta fallen on their ol’ coconut several times.

      Vaya con Dios.