Coffee Percs

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

She handed a mug of steaming black coffee to the man as he came back into the kitchen. He thanked her and took a sip of the strong brew. It was a wel-come drink, and he savored it.”
                    –James Leonard  (Return to Brigand’s Gate)

Come on in this kitchen, Pard.  The coffee’s hot, strong, and wonderful as it was my Valentine’s gift from my sweetie.  Better than chocolates or a fuzzy bear.  Did yuh treat yur gal to something nice?  Bring her flowers?  Well, Pard, let me tell yuh the truth of the matter.  I figure that a day like Valentines is nothing more than the media tryin’ to conjure money outta yur pocket with their consumer mentality.  No, Pard, that don’t mean I’m against love and romance, far from it.  What I’m a-sayin’ is that it shouldn’t be jes’ one day.  We should be treatin’ our wives like that on a constant basis.
     Flowers once or twice a year?  Why?  I made myself a promise many a year back that I’d try to keep flowers on the table for my wife.  Why only once or twice?  She’s worth it more than that.  Now, that don’t mean there’s always flowers there.  If’n there’s not it’s ’cause I haven’t been able to get out to get them.  But yuh can bet yur britches that there are many days or weeks that I do.  I mean the gal is prettier than a flower and smells better than a rose, so I put them on the table for her and to compare.  Yep, mush all right, but it’s fun.
     See I figure it this a-way.  Why make it only one special day, when everyday I spend with my gal is a special day.  Chocolates only on special occasions?  Ha, or like you Pard when yur tryin’ to get yurself out of trouble.  A fuzzy bear?  Why, when she’s got me to cuddle?  See, Pard, we travel down this ol’ road of life together, so I ought to be gettin’ her these little things on a regular basis.  Don’t the Lord show His love to us everyday?  I mean sometimes it grandiose, but most of the time He gives us little things as we go through life with Him.  Sometimes He jes’ smiles down on us from heaven.  Ain’t that enough?
     Lots of folks don’t celebrate that day ‘causin’ they don’t have anyone to be with.  But the Lord is with them, hmmm, I wonder if’n they ever thought of a Valentine’s Day with the Lord?  I was readin’ yesterday an’ this verse came up, “Fill us full every morning with your faithful love so we can rejoice and celebrate our whole life long.”  That’s from Psalm 90:14 in this new translation called the CEB.  His love, His mercy are fresh and ready for us each and ev’ry mornin’ so we should be travelin’ through this world light.

     Now, Pard, I sure hope yuh did somethin’ for yur sweetie or else the lumps on yur noggin’ won’t be from fallin’ out of yur saddle ’cause yuh didn’t check yur cinch.  Me and the missus are goin’ to fandango tonight.  Yep, goin’ to dinner with some of the church folk…should be a fine time.  So let’s finish our coffee and get ready for the day.  Not much I can do with this ol’ fence post, but I’ll give it a try.
     Vaya con Dios.

 

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

The kitchen was lighted by one coal-oil lamp, and the table was set for breakfast with a blue and white checkered cloth. I got the coffeepot and a cup and went to the table.”

                    –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.

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

I started a fire in the stove. There was some water in a pitcher, so I poured it into the coffee pot and got some coffee started on the stove.”

                    –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.

 

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

He turned to the woodstove and the coffee pot on top of it. He reached for a small towel, folded it over and used it as a mitt to grab the handle. He poured some of the hot brew into a mug and paused.” 

                    –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.