–James J. Griffin  (Tall Trouble in Terlingua)

 

Mornin’ to yuh, Pard, sure glad yur hangin’ in the saddle.  Lots of folks ain’t.  My mercy, the storms that have hit us and hardly anyone has mentioned the 70,000 plus acres of fire burnin’ up in ol’ Wyomin’.   Here we sit, cup in hand, enjoyin’ this good life while others won’t get a cup of coffee this mornin’.  

     Pard, I still have to wonder if’n these storms aren’t a way of God tellin’ us to wake up!  Goodness, it should remind folks of the Flood, and remember then the goodness and faithfulness of God an’ yet at the same time know that God doesn’t mess around.  He’s good and patient, but there comes a time when He says, “I will not turn back My wrath.”  Folks that could mean that the good ol’ US of A might be havin’ God turn His back on us.  Perhaps the only thing in our favor might be us continuin’ to back Israel.  We know in the future that the Lord is goin’ to take us home an’ then His patience will be withdrawn.  This won’t be a good place to be.  Why, I reckon there won’t be a cup of coffee to be found, well, maybe if’n yuh want to take the mark of that Beast.

     Ahhh, enjoy that coffee and thank the Lord for His blessin’.  We are sittin’ here, jawin’ and enjoyin’.  Might not always be so.  

     I haven’t seen nor heard much from the pundits, the WOKE folk, the CRT, and elite progressives regarding the day we celebrate the foundin’ of the New World.  Yep, that ol’ salt, Christopher Columbus was quite the sailor.  If’n yuh study his life much, yuh have to come to the conclusion that he was a real “Renaissance Man.”  He knew geography, the currents of the seas, languages, cartography, and the Bible.  In fact, he was well aware that his name meant “Christ-bearer”.  Say what yuh want, without Columbus, and those that followed him, the Word of God would not have been brought to the New World.  

     Those antiChrist people don’t understand what’s waiting for them by some of their talk.  I don’t bother reasonin’ with them any more.  I read just last week that the secret to a happy life is to drink coffee and avoid talkin’ to morons.  I have to add an’ know the Lord Jesus Christ as yur Savior.

     Speakin’ of enjoyin’ coffee, what’dya say we finish this pot.  The day is callin’ for us…  Have a good week, Pard, an’ check yur cinch.

       Vaya con Dios.

                    –Louis L’Amour  (Lando)

 

Death, Devastation and Destruction…  Pard, these storms this year have done plenty of that ‘specially that last one.  My mercy!  A work of nature or the hand of God?  Pard, we do know that the Lord is in control of the winds and waves, is He tryin’ to send us a message?  If’n so are we a-listenin’?

     Saw where they’re usin’ mules and horses to get supplies up in the mountain areas.  An’ I reckon those new-fangled electric cars are doin’ their share of duty…ha, parked somewheres ’cause there ain’t no electricity.  What I don’t see is much help comin’ from Uncle Sam (i.e., Biden and Harris).  Convoy of Hope is on the scene as is Samaritan’s Purse, but…where’s?? I’m not a-talkin’ ’bout handouts, I’m talkin’ ’bout a helpin’ hand.   Do we need to discuss leadership here?  I remember the media crawlin’ all over President Bush durin’ Katrina, but no outcry this time.  See, the liberal politician is the media’s pet.

     Like ol’ Louis said, sometimes after the storm the best thing to do is put on the coffee, then survey the damage.  After that…begin the work and always, through all of it, be thankin’ the Lord.  One ol’ boy said the other day that “hard times are like a wild horse.  Ya can’t dodge ’em, so stay in the saddle and hold on ’til the critter wears out.”  If’n yuh get thrown, after yuh get back on yur feet, check yurself out.  Make sure there’s no permanent damage, then dust yurself off an’ get back to work.  Don’t be a-dependin’ on the bureaucrats to help yuh out.

     Pard, in the midst of the storms that come into our lives I’m reminded of the ol’ sage Charles Tindley who wrote, “When the storms of life are raging, stand by me…  When the world is tossing me like a ship upon the sea, Thou who rulest wind and water, stand by me”.  Hunker down, hold on, pull yurself together, and get back to fixin’ things up.  Be prayin’ for those an’ liftin’ them up before the Lord.  An’ don’t forget yurself Pard.  If’n yuh don’t check yur cinch, yuh just might wind up in the mud yur ownself.

     Vaya con Dios.

                      –C.J. Petit  (Tate)

 

Now ain’t that sweet sentiment?  Pard, that’s the way it should be.  Along with a good, hot, strong, black cup of coffee all a person needs is a smile from his sweetie.  Do that in the mornin’ and it sets the tone for the whole day.  The truth be told, however, Pard, I’m usually the one who makes the coffee in the mornin’.  But when the wife gets up, there’s a “goon mornin'” then a hug.  Yep, that’s the way to get the day started, oh, along with meetin’ with the Lord first thing every mornin’.

     No philosophyzin’ or politicalizin’ this mornin’, just some coffee talk.  I read where one ol’ boy made his coffee so strong that he remarked to a vendor, “If I’m lucky, I make my week’s coffee and by Tuesday and don’t work the rest of the week.”  Pard, that must be some strong coffee.  I’ve heard the complaint that some folks put too much water in their coffee, but…  And from what I hear, and some say it’s the truth, that some old-time Texas Rangers made their coffee strong and thick enough to patch a pothole, but again, that’s just what I heard.

     My Grandpa Jones started rollin’ in his grave when he heard the price of coffee these days.  Grandpa owned a cafe in Boulder, CO and before that a pharmacy in Industry, KS.  They were on a trip and stopped to eat.  Grandpa was appalled that coffee cost a dime.  He slammed his hand on the table, and complained, “Never heard of such a thing as coffee costing more than a nickel.”  But I’m not so old  that I don’t remember when coffee came with the meal, especially breakfast, and there were unlimited refills.  Ha, Pard, that reminds me of goin’ to the Sycamore Inn durin’ college.  Once in a while, we’d have enough money to buy a sweet roll that cost fifty cents.  We made sure we drank at least five cups of coffee to even out the bill; yep, by that time inflation had set in and coffee most everywhere was a dime.

     Say, yur quiet today.  Is it the upcomin’ storm, or did yuh burn the hair off’n yur tongue on the hot coffee.  Pure delight this mornin’.  No harsh words, nothin’ worth talkin’ ’bout in the news, most of it lies anyhow.  But here’s another true story.  I done tolt yuh ’bout my Grandpa Jones, well, here’s one ’bout my Grandpa Adkisson.  Grandpa was a big man, which was causin’ him blood pressure problems.  The doctor put him on a strict diet and Grandpa asked if he could drink coffee.  “Sure,” the doctor said, “drink as much as you want.”  When Grandpa went back to the doctor he had lost weight, but his blood pressure was still up.  It caused the doc to shake his head, then he asked, “How much coffee are you drinking?”  Grandpa thought for only a moment and replied, “Only about five pots a day.”  The doctor advised he cut back to maybe two pots.  See, instead of eatin’ he was drinkin’ coffee.

     Listen, Pard, here’s the truth, if’n yuh get up on the wrong side of the bed, don’t crawl back in.  Just head on out to the kitchen, and make yurself a pot.  Then yuh can relax while it’s a-perkin’ for patience soothes the troubled soul.  When the perkin’s done, take a sip, lean back and thank the good Lord, then take a deeper sip.  It’ll perk up yur mood, sure ‘nough.  Now, see yuh can leave the day not agitated, yur gizzard is smilin’ happy thoughts an’ not makin’ any gurglin’ noises.  Yu’ll have a fine day, long as yuh remember to check yur cinch.

     Vaya con Dios

 

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.