–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.

                     –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.