–Louis L’Amour  (The Man From the Broken Hills)

 

Mornin’ to yuh, Pard, come on in this kitchen, the coffee’s hot and strong.  Trust yuh had yurself a good week.  I’ve kept some busy with the family and all that goes on.  Whooeee, today is a big day, one that’ll never pass this way again.  The middle granddaughter becomes officially a legal adult.  My doesn’t time fly!   

     Ahh, that is pretty good coffee this mornin’ if’n I do have to say so myself.  Yur too busy guzzlin’ yuh don’t have time for compliments.  Pard, let me tell yuh something.  I read, and there’s so much with the politikin’ that I’m not sure if’n it’s true or not, but I read where there is a Congressman, one of them bureaucrats without much sense, who has filed articles of impeachment against President Trump.

     First of all, his constituents should take him out behind the woodshed and smack some of that silliness out of him, and anyone else who would go along with such nonsense.  Hold on, I need a swaller.  Ahhh, let me tell yuh Pard, to have another impeachment is a travesty.  Sometimes the spirit of slap comes on me and things just jerk my jaws.  To impeach would for one thing be a waste of time.  ‘Course that’s what many of these big-mouthed bureaucrats want–waste time.  They don’t know how to do any real work and that includes their politikin’.  Waste time of a fool’s errand when they should be workin’ to solve the problems of the country.

    Another thing, it’s a waste of the taxpayers’ money.  Wastin’ time is wastin’ money.  Big salaries for wastin’…  An’ Pard, let me give yuh another reason.  That’s just poor stewardship of the peoples’ trust.  Yep, wastin’ this and wastin’ that on a somethin’ that isn’t goin’ to happen.   Folks who are elected are supposed to be smart, but this fool is only a smart-alek.  Doesn’t he know how many votes it takes for a conviction?  

     Pard, there’s folks that are upset over bein’ let go from their jobs.  They were livin’ on easy-street, but now they have to produce more than just spiel their words.  Yuh know if yuh throw a rock in a pack of dogs the one who yelps is the one who was hit.  Just like these bureaucrats who haven’t produced in the last four years–they’re doin’ some yelpin’.  Those out for selfish-gain are hurtin’, and more than that the Lord is lookin’ down watchin’ the proceedin’s as well.  Read the prophets and some of the indictments the Lord has against those in charge is just that–selfish-gain, along with cruelty, false scales, risin’ prices that affect the common folk and poor, economics that take a toil on the needy.  Yep, there’s a lot of yelpin’ goin’ on.

     Well, ‘nough of that speechifyin’.  The pot’s empty, my jaws are relaxed from the coffee and from the yappin’.  Oh, Pard, one more thing.  If’n yuh listen too much to that woke stuff, pretty soon they’re be a-tellin’ yuh that yuh don’t have to be a-checkin’ yur cinch.  Don’t believe such stuff.

      Vaya con Dios.

                    –Dan Arnold  (Bear Creek)

 

Beep, beep, no that’s not the Road Runner, that’s good mornin’ to yuh in tech terms.  Coffee’s ready, Pard, I heard the beep from the coffee maker.  If’n I’d made it in the old perkolater there wouldn’t be a beep.  Beep, everything has a beep.  The oven is heated–beep, beep, beep.  The car door is left open–beep, beep, beep.  You left the keys in the car–beep, beep, beep.  Why, even some vehicles make beep, beep, beep, when they back up.  Add to that the dings and dongs, the pings, buzzes, whistles, and gongs and we have a whole technological symphony goin’.  

     Let me take a swallow an’ I’ll tell yuh where I’m goin’ with this.  Yuh tell me, Pard.  Why is it that the smoke alarm, when the batteries are dyin’, only beeps at the early hours of the mornin’?  They never seem to go out durin’ the day, but only at the wee hours of the mornin’, then it’s BEEP!  A few seconds later BEEP!  An’ at the time, it’s that loud and that annoyin’.  I think it must be another one of those technological conspiracies.

     I’m sure glad the ol’ song goes, “When the trumpet of the Lord shall sound and time shall be no more…”.  I’d sure rather the Lord come on a trumpet blast than with a beeper, or a beepin’ sound.  There will be the trumpet call of God, accordin’ to ol’ Paul, not beep, beep, beep.

     Not very profound this mornin’, but let’s jist enjoy our coffee hopin’ that nothin’ else beeps around here.  But…I did hear some beepin’ the other day as there’s some construction goin’ on ’round here.  One thing, if’n yuh fall out of the saddle ’cause yuh didn’t check yur cinch and fall on yur noggin’ it sure enough won’t beep.  It’ll be more like a thud and a rattle as the marbles get all spewed about.

     Yuh be havin’ a good day an’ week, an’ if’n yuh hear some beepin’ sound check yur pacemaker; it may be out of whack and goin’ bonkers, errr I mean beepers.

      Vaya con Dios.

                    –James Leonard  (The Good Guy)

 

Mornin’ Pard, little late this mornin’ sorry.  The ol’ bone are achin’ from a long drive.  Yep, sittin’ in the steel mount ain’t the same as it was thirty years ago.  But all went well.  The missus and I went over to Baton Rouge, to pay last respects and honor to one of my dear Pards.  Yuh remember, ol’ Grizz?  Yep, he’s the one always totin’ that rifle around.  Whooee, Pard, there are some stories to tell.  Well, he passed over the Great Divide an’ we wanted to spend some time with the family rememberin’ him.

     Events can sure get yur attention.  I’m reminded of ol’ Solomon when he wrote that there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity.  Two weeks ago, we was a-celebratin’ a young couple gettin’ married, startin’ on the journey of life together.  Then yesterday celebratin’ the life of a man who has passed on through this life to glory.  That’s the way it goes, that’s the way it is.

     Say, Pard, don’t let my recollectin’ stop yuh from slurpin’ yur coffee.  Ha, one thing for sure, beats hotel coffee and road coffee. But at one stop to rest the ol’ mount there was a place with Community an’ they made it strong enough to suit my ol’ taste buds.  Ahhh, reminds me of the huntin’ camp I was in with Grizz.  We kept a Folgers can on the counter, but it wasn’t normally filled with Folgers.  Actually, when the can started goin’ dry someone would buy, usually Community, to fill it up.  One of the fellows at the camp said he only drank Folgers.  Ol’ Grizz and I smiled at each other.  We never could get the poor ol’ guy to believe it wasn’t Folgers.  

     Speakin’ of drinkin’ coffee.  The missus and I were eatin’ something they call breakfast at the hotel.  Now mind you, I was grateful for the vittles, but it sure wasn’t Annie’s home-cookin’.  Of course them there places play music, or somethin’ they call music.  I usually try to tune the sound out, but while I was takin’ a bite of eggs, one phrase made it into my mind.  Crazy phrase, but it shows the plight of some of our society.  “We’ll go get tattoos, and trash a hotel room.  I don’t want to be a one-man band.”  Sorry, Pard, didn’t know that’d cause yuh to sputter out yur coffee.  At least it didn’t come out yur nose.  But talk about nonsense and pure foolishness.  If that is what brings delight to a body, then he is indeed a wretched man.  Sounds like a man without much hope in his life and for certain the joy of the Lord ain’t there.  And not bein’ a one-man band.  Why, Pard, none of us go through life alone.  We either travel with the Holy Spirit by our side, guidin’ our steps, or ol’ slewfoot, the devil is walkin’ beside a person.  Yep, he’s just the sort that’d get a person to get a tattoo and trash a room jist for the fun of it.

     Time to be up an’ goin’.  Yuh be safe with yur walk this week.  I thought I saw a lump on yur noggin’.  Yuh didn’t forget to check yur cinch did yuh?  Slipped on ice, ha, well, we must be careful when we’re out a-traipsin’ about.  

      Vaya con Dios.

                     –Nathan Wright  (The Pursuit)

 

Brrr, it’s cold, an’ I’m afraid it’s gonna get colder.  Coffee’s hot though an’ it’ll warm yur innards.  Say, Pard, next week is settin’ up to be quite a week.  Monday, a new President will take office.  Out with the old, liberal, wokeism and hopefully in with some type of genuine, get-down-to-business plan.  Let’s see what happens.  We have an situation given to us by the good Lord to get back to the foundations–let’s see.

     Feel that coffee workin’ its way down into yur core?  Ahhh, even in the midst of the storms, we can still share a cup of hot java.  Speakin’ of storms, that’s the second thing that’s settin’ up to happen.  Supposed to get downright cold here in this part of Texas, well, in fact most all of the state.  Predicticatin’ snow.  That’ll be all right as long as the electricity doesn’t go out like it did a couple years ago.  But we’ll face whatever comes with the Lord by our side.

     I remember a few years back when I told someone the cold makes my bones ache.  Why she almost threw a conniption fit.  She said don’t speak those words.  Now, I’ve been ’round long enough to hear hoo-doo and even some voodoo an’ that was what that was.  Listen, Pard, the holy Scripture is not hocus pocus.  We are to worship in truth, that means reality.  We worship no matter the situation, no matter if the bones ache or not.  Why that ol’ ‘postle Paul said that he bore the scars on his walk with the Lord.  He didn’t testify them away.  I saw that lived first-hand in the lives of my Grandma and Aunt Bern.

     Sure hopin’ I don’t have to get out.  Supposed to see the heart doc on Tuesday, that’s the day it’s supposed to snow.  Might have to change my appointment.  Not that I can’t drive in snow, but it’s the rest of these fools around here that concern me.  Yuh, be havin’ a safe week, stay warm, and if’n yuh have to go out in the cold and weather for land sakes check yur cinch.

     Vaya con Dios.