Mornin’ to yuh, Pard.  Busy mornin’, no time for preachin’, pontificatin’, prophesyin’, or politicizin’.  I have to be downtown as I am on the square to display, and hopefully sell some of my books.  Folks need to have something wholesome and entertainin’ to read; get their nose out of the news.  I met a lady in the Farmers’ Market the other day an’ she said my books were so delightful to read and she purchased six more.  Made me happy, so I gave her a big smile.

     One thing, Pard, don’t mean to be stoppin’ yuh from yur slurpin’.  That must mean yur dry or the coffee’s good.  But I tolt yuh ’bout folks that whine and those with the Peter Pan Syndrome a few weeks back.  Well, I saw somethin’ last week that made me shake my head.  Here we go, don’t be droppin’ that cup or yu’ll go a week without coffee.  “Parents are anxious, lonely, overwhelmingly stressed…”  What I read continued, “People keep coping until they absolutely can’t, and parents are at the breaking point.  Why aren’t politicians treating this as an emergency?”  Give me a break!  I had to shake my head, what’s the matter with people?  But then, I stopped an’ thought for a moment–they don’t have Christ in their lives.

     Ahhh, gotta be swallerin’ down fast.  Burns all the way down the gullet.  That’s all we need is the politicians gettin’ involved more with the family.  Why there’s already a move to pass laws sayin’ that children belong to the State.  My mercy, if that ever passes.  I hear things like, “adultin’ is so hard,” or “I need to take a break from adultin’.”  My land, grow up.  Listen, my folks raised me so that I could handle life.  Raise yur kids right, quite yur whinin’, if yur stressed ’bout yur kids, get on yur knees and start prayin’ for them, and, oh, don’t forget to discipline them properly.  Don’t lavish them with unneeded and foolish gifts.  Don’t give in to their every whim.  Remember, they don’t run the house.

     See, Pard, and I’ll shut up–folks are too selfish.  They don’t want to take the time to be quality parents.  Yuh see, parentin’ and adultin’ means responsibility.  If’n they’re not around then they think that givin’ them gifts will make up for it.  Well, that’s about it.  The pot’s empty, time to be headin’ out.  Yep, Pard, the steel mount is packed, an’ I’ll be checkin’ my cinch.

      Vaya con Dios.

                     –D.C. Adkisson  (Trouble at Gregory Gulch)

 

“Well, won’t it be wonderful there, having no burden or care…”  Jump in Pard, there’s plenty of room.  What’s that, yuh don’t want to hurt yurself?  Can’t clog in the kitchen no more, huh?  Jist a little shuffle in the hallway, is that it?  Tell yuh what, you shuffle, I’ll clog a bit, and we’ll let it loose.  Guess not, yur right, something could come loose, git out of joint, or swell up.  That’s what happens when yuh start on the downward side of years, the ol’ starter gets harder to start.  Ha, these yunguns have no idea of a starter.  Why I drove an ol’ ’52 Ford pickup…uh, that’s another story, but when the starter worked it was down by the gas pedal.  Most of the time I had to park that truck on a hill and let it roll to get it started–had to clutch it.

     Pard, taste that there coffee.  The missus said to try it as it was cheap.  I’m sometimes wary of “cheap,” but even more so of expensive, sophisticated coffee.  What’dya think?

Go ahead, work on that first cup, I want to say something I read this past week regardin’ that ol’ AI stuff again.  I was readin’ an’ several preachers said that AI would enhance a body’s sermon.  How ’bout that?  What ever happened to SI?  No, not Sports Illustrated…Supernatural Intelligence.  I thought the Holy Spirit would enhance, guide in all truth.  The job of the preacher was to be led by the Spirit after he had studied and prayed for the sermon he was to deliver.  Pard, sometimes I jist don’t know; it’s my a-thinkin’ that we’ve plenty of artificial intelligence walking around in this country, and they ain’t all locked up.

     Truth or fake news?  Let me take a swaller first.  But I’ve heard, and read, and no one seems to know.  Are there a group of Haitians eatin’ the neighborhood cats and dogs?  One group says yes, another group says its a lie.  One side has to be lyin’.  Now, I’ve known of homeless folk, those that are really down an’ out, eatin’ rabbits an’ squirrels an’ ducks from city parks.  Read that in the newspaper years ago, so it must be truth.  Boy howdy, a person would have to be evil an’ low-down to eat a little kid’s pet.  Might need them a good ol’ fashion stompin’.  Sorry for my ire.  Guess the good Lord will be lookin’ down an’ takin’ note.  An’ don’t yuh be a-tellin’ me they can’t afford food, why most of them have a top-notch phone an’ make more money than us retired folks.  Good ol’ government will give them a feed…  

     Let’s go back…”joyously singin’ with heart-bells all ringin’…”  Still don’t want to sing, huh?  Well, the pot’s done empty, an’ my gizzard is wound up at thinkin’ ’bout what’s goin’ on in this country.  Good thing the Lord is watchin’ over us and walkin’ with us.  Yuh be takin’ care of yur own self and family.  Read from the Good Book, straighten yur shoulders when yuh ride for yur ridin’ for the King, keep yur gun oiled an’ ready.  Yuh jist never know what might be a-comin’ at yuh.  An’ for mercy’s sake, check yur cinch, yuh can’t be guardin’ nobody if’n yuh fall on yur noggin’.

                 Vaya con Dios,

                        Ira

                 (irapaine.com)

 

(Note, “Won’t It Be Wonderful There” is beyond the required note for copyright.  But it was written in 1930 by James Rowe.  He was a prolific writer with more than 9,000 hymns, poems, recitations, and other works. —Hymnary.org)

                   –Donald L. Robertson  (Callum’s Mission)

 

Come on in, Pard, help yurself.  Ahhh, mighty fine tastin’ coffee this mornin’ if’n I do say so myself.  That’s the real stuff, no latte, no cinos, just plain ol’ good, delicious coffee.  I don’t want no deception to muh taste buds.  Nosiree!

     Speakin’ of deception, there’s sure a bunch of it goin’ on.  Goin’ get worser an’ worser as we wait for the return of the Lord.  One day, after we’re gone, the ol’ deceiver himself is gonna rule through the man of lawlessness–the Antichrist.  Talk about deception, I reckon there won’t be any such thing as real coffee.  See, that’s part of the agenda, confuse their taste buds.  Offer them something sweet with just a hint of the real thing.  Cinos they call it, a taste of enlightenment.

     Why, Pard, listen up!  Deception is all ’round us.  Using the guise of peace for deception I saw where the pope, his goodness himself, kissing the hand of a Muslim iman.  Mr. Pope said that all religions “have a role to play.”  Well, Pard, he done right ’bout that.  All have a play in deception including pseudo-Christianity.  That sounds more like the religion of Oprah, all religions lead to God.  Whew, that makes a man want to double the grounds for the next pot.  Seems to me I read in the Bible that to be a friend of the world is to be an enemy of God.  Deception, Pard, that’s all it is.  Why they’re a-sayin’ just “help yurself.”

     This week, I decided to add another pet peeve to my list.  One day I need to go through an’ delete a few since some of them relate to my time in education.  But here’s my new one.  Yuh take a swaller as I tell yuh.  AI.  Yelp, AI is on my list.  I look at AI photos of places that this ol’ bones have traveled an’ it’s just plain ol’ deception.  AI is tryin’ to deceive folks by sayin’ what yur a-lookin’ at is the place.  Why, Pard, just the other day, a picture of Boulder Falls was posted.  It was no more Boulder Falls than Niagara.  Then a photo of the San Juans, my mercy, I’ve traveled those lonesome peaks.  It looked more like some of those in the Andes or someplace else.  Pard, they even tried to fool me with some photos of my stoopin’ grounds outside the Indian Peaks.  False photos of Rocky Mountain National Park.  Pard, I tell yuh, it’s all part of the ploy–deception.  Go ‘head, they’re sayin’, believe what yuh see–help yurself.

     That ol’ liar slewfoot is the father of lies an’ he hasn’t stopped.  Why from almost the beginnin’ he spewed forth lies, lies of deception.  Ol’ Eve and Adam bit right into it.  Help yurself–the devil said, an’ they chewed a bite of that fruit an’ evil with all of its deception came forth, an’ the devil laughed with glee.  Pard, one day, an’ the world’s headin’ that way, the people are goin’ to believe the biggest lie of all.  Until that day, the devil just says, go ‘head–help yurself.  It might start with just a sip of cino, or maybe some weed, after all it won’t hurt yuh; or maybe only a drink at a party.  Yep, help yurself.

     Pard, right now, I’m gonna help myself to another cup of coffee, and then do some more readin’ in the Bible; helpin’ myself to some of that bread of life.  The Lord says, He has a table spread, and calls for us to come and dine–to help ourselves to the things of the Lord, not the things of the world.

     Well, Pard, guess I got to preachifyin’ some today, but the coffee was worth it, right?  Yuh be comin’ over long as I can afford it.  My mercy, have yuh been to the grocery lately?  Well, uh, that’s a subject for another Perc.  Yuh be havin’ a good week, guard the truth, don’t be gettin’ yurself deceived, and for land’s sake, check yur cinch.

      Vaya con Dios.

                     –Johnny Gunn  (Terror on Flat Top Ridge)

 

Mornin’ to yuh, Pard.  Coffee’s on, ready for yuh to guzzle, or sip, whichever fits yur fancy.  In the midst of this crazy, mixed-up world, some things are just downright enjoyable.  Yep, some things just lift yuh up an’ make yuh smile.  Yuh know what I mean.  From the first glimmer of graylight in the mornin’ to the dazzlin’ colors of a sunrise tellin’ yuh that yur still alive and breathin’.  The aroma of fresh brewed coffee an’ then the taste of that elixir flowin’ down yur gullet to yur gizzard. . . ahhh, delightful.  Or how ’bout the aroma of fresh-baked bread, or pie, then add to that the smell of bacon a-fryin’.  Yep, most of the time the simple things are the good things.

     Why you just showin’ up this mornin’ and sharin’ a bit of yur time with me–well, that’s a lifter.  I’ll share somethin’ with yuh that really made this ol’ fence post feel good.  I got a phone call yesterday from my ol’ pard, Bob.  Just made me feel good that he was a-thinkin’ ’bout me.  We talked a spell, shared some things–why, it was just like ol’ times.  Made not only my gizzard happy, but my heart as well.  We exhorted each other like the Scripture says, to stay in the faith and to guard the truth.  I recall, Pard, the writer of Hebrews says that we are to exhort one another daily, while it is called “Today.”  (3:13)  

     Go ahead, Pard, pour yurself another cup, there’s plenty and if we empty the pot there’s more makin’s.  Read the other day of an ol’ cowman who put the coffee on every mornin’ out of habit, even though his gizzard won’t accept it anymore.  Now, that’s bein’ faithful to friends who may, or may not show up.  The coffee’s there for them, sorta comfortin’ to know that folks think kindly towards one another.  I remember Grandma always had a pot of coffee on the stove in case anyone came by.  She never drank the brew, but it was always there, ready for a guest or friend.

     Yep, Pard, with all the evil around, and all the wicked folk who sit in high places we need each other to encourage us in this evil day.  “Comfort one another”, we are told.  So hope, my few words along with the coffee will give yuh some comfort this Saturday before yuh head out for the day’s duties.  Fact is, I’m comforted knowin’ that yuh checked yur cinch.  Sure does ease the mind.  Yuh be havin’ a good week!

       Vaya con Dios.