Coffee Percs

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

Before walking out the door, he drained the rest of the coffee from his cup and grabbed his hat.”
                    –Duane Boehm  (Sun Over the Mountains)

Say, it seems like a month of Sundays since we’ve shared coffee together.  Whooeee, plenty of miles on the roads since last time.  And we get together to share a few grand things.  First, Pard, I heard that yesterday was National Coffee Day, whatever that means.  Well, if the doomafligets, and whoopidigangels, along with the whatchamacalits get their day, why not coffee?  Ahhh, that’s some good coffee–New Guinea, one of my two favorites.  Don’t gulp it, Pard, first yul burn yur tonsils and second yuh will miss that delectable taste.
       Second, yuh do realize that another month has done passed us by?  Mercy, this ol’ world is just a whirlin’ along.  Yuh go to sleep one night and the next thing yuh know another month has gone an’ what do yuh have to say about it?  Just another hole in yur britches.  I was gonna say pockets, but yuh haven’t patched them up in a long time.  Yuh never know the last time yul walk out that door with yur hat on.  Time moves on until that day when it will be no more.
       Smooth, that’s what this is.  Satisfyin’ to the gizzard along with the other innards.  An’ that brings me to another thing.  Bein’ the end of another September means that we’ve spent three-fourths of the year discussin’ the graces of coffee along with the grace of the Lord.  Why, Pard, we’re up this mornin’, the sun shinin’ down upon us, an’ we get to enjoy another day of God’s blessin’s.  Some cowpoke after livin’ a full life came up with this genuine truth:  “Life is a gift from God, wake up every day and realize that.”  He later went on to soliloquize: “Life is too short for fake meat, fake cheese, or fake people.”  So, Pard, be genuine–an’ I’m glad to have had yuh along for the ride.  Yuh be sittin’ tall in the saddle, hyar, but check that cinch before yuh mount.

        Vaya con Dios.

 

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

At twilight, after the sun eased behind the mountains, he sat enjoying another cup of coffee and watching the trees. Seeing movement there, he set the cup down beside him and took the thong off the hammer of his Colt.”

                    –C. Wayne Winkle  (Judd’s Journey)
 
Go ‘head, git yurself a cup.  Sorry, I don’t have it next to the pot.  I’ve been busy this mornin’ gettin’ ready to ride one more time.  Not sure have many more journeys are in this ol’ body, but I’ll go ’til I can’t no more.  Good, hot, strong coffee this mornin, Pard.  Don’t be rubbin’ on yur skin or it might take off the hair.  Just finished honin’ my knife. . .  dull knife is kinda like weak coffee, not much good.  I worked with a fellow once who used to put that final edge on his knife by using the leather on his boot.  Let me tell yuh, that blade was sharp as a razor.
       Headin’ up over the Great Plains an’ into the high country.  Don’t worry Pard, I’ll have my weapons ready just in case.  Along with the wife, the eldest daughter and grandson are goin’ to travel.  Yep, gonna show the lad some of the places where I grew up.  Plus I’ve got a hankerin’ to see the mountains once more.  Ha, won’t be able to romp through them like I used to as the years have taken a toll.  And with all the stupid people causin’ new rules and regulations I don’t know if I can stop by a stream to boil up some coffee or not.
       Ahhhh, let’s enjoy this pot.  Don’t know for sure when I’ll be back.  Ha, don’t yuh worry, I’m not gonna take off and trek by myself.  The plan is to come home to the woods of East Texas.  I imagine the trip will be somewhat nostalgic, lookin’ at the trails the Lord has brought me along.  Yep, hope to point out some places to the youngster where the Lord has shown me, and where I’ve tromped.  Now, I’m not one to pick one favorite verse, but among them that I often use is Proverbs 4:18.  Go ahead, finish that cup, I’ll pour yuh another then recite. 
       “The path of the just is like the shining sun, that shines ever brighter unto the perfect day.”  Later on, ol’ Solomon said in the same chapter, “Ponder the paths of your feet, and let all your ways be established.”  Hmmm, gettin’ nostalgic already.  Yuh be doin’ good whilst I’m gone.  Don’t be drinkin’ no weak coffee, or any cinos, and for goodness sake remember to check yur cinch as I won’t be about to remind yuh.
        Vaya con Dios.

 

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

When he thought the coffee had boiled long enough he used a forked stick to lift the bucket by its bail and set it back from the fire.”

                    –Elmer Kelton  (The Good Old Boys)
 
“Ohh, ohhh, I’m pressin’ on the upward way, New heights I’m gainin’ ev’ry day…”  What’s that, Pard?  I’m causin’ yur vertigo to act up?  My singin’ ain’t that bad.  Oh, it’s the thought of high altitude.  Take a deep swaller of that coffee; it’ll cure yur dizziness.  My mercy, Pard, what’s gonna happen when the Lord rushes yuh up thru the clouds?  No, you won’t have no wings.  Yur sure ‘nough not an angel now, and for goodness sakes we don’t become angels neither either.
       Been a while since I’ve boiled coffee in a pail.  I remember Grandpa used to do that when out fishin’.  Me, well, I was a little more sophisticated; I had a little coffeepot I always carried with me.  Been a time or two I’d get it out of the ol’ steel mount and make coffee on the side of the road.  No, Pard, I didn’t carry a little enamel pan, that was in my book about Elias Butler.  Like I said, I’m one for modern technology.  If’n I’m gonna boil coffee I’ll use a regular pot, and if’n I want to get fancy when I’m out I use a percolator.  
       How’s yur vertigo now?  I thought yuh got it ’cause yuh fell on yur noggin’ too many times.  Yuh best be ready, I know we’re gonna meet the Lord in the sky at the rapture, but I thought I heard the angels wranglin’ up that heavenly herd.  Whoooeeee, won’t that be a sight.  We’ll be ridin’ down from heaven thro’ the skies with the Lord.  Pard, yu’ll forget all about that vertigo, but that don’t mean yuh can mount one of those heavenly horses without first checkin’ yur cinch.  The good Lord ain’t gonna do it for yuh.
       Come on Pard, join me.  Go ‘head take another swaller, “Still prayin’ as I’m onward bound, ‘Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.'”  Compliments to the sage who wrote this fine song that thrills my innards.  Johnson Oatman, Jr., and think Pard, he might be ridin’ right along next to yuh.  Listen while yur guzzlin’ down that coffee.  We’re goin’ upward to glory all the time.  Sometimes the elevation don’t seem like much, just like crossin’ the Divide in northern New Mexico or southern Wyoming.  But then there’s other times like goin’ over those high passes in Colorado.  
       Hold on, Pard, I need to swaller some.  Made me a little nostalgic for a moment.  I used to cry to the Lord to head out to the High Lonesome.  But He said, I had work to do in the valley and on the plains.  I didn’t realize that in reality I was really movin’ upward.  A step, an inch, quarter mile, but always upward.  Yeehaw!  Let’s ride, Pard!  My cinch is tight, “Lord, lead me on to higher ground!”
         Vaya con Dios.

 

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

It has become a place I could not leave alone, or my quiet talks with her, nor the good coffee in the candlelight.”

                    –Louis L’Amour
 
Pard, come on in, the coffee’s ready, but my mind’s a-wanderin’.  I was readin’ something on that there facebook and saw that Gary and Kathy Hines had their wedding anniversary and something in my mind perked up.   I was a groomsman at that weddin’ an’ in the audience watchin’ the knot-tyin’ was a gal by the name of Annie Baker.  It fell to me to take her home after the doin’s.
       A storm had come up, and a few tried to get us to stay over until it blew through, but I reckoned I could manage.  I had traveled two days before from an FCA conference in Estes Park, drove twenty-four hours and slept in the car across the street from the house of the bride.  I remember the look on her mother’s face when I knocked on the door the next mornin’.  Take a sip, I need one for I’m gettin’ off subject.
       Ahhh, that’s better, now back to the storm.  The night was dark, the rain was hard.  I knew there was a moon up above, but with the dark clouds and rain it was nowhere in sight, no moonbeams shinin’ down as we traveled the road to her home in Pennsylvania.  We were travelin’ the turnpike, and my innards were all in turmoil, and with the heavy weather bearin’ down, I decided to pull off the turnpike for a spell.  It was a decision that would change forever the lives of several people, but especially this ol’ fencepost and Miss Baker.  I wasn’t an ol’ fencepost back then, just a young splinter.
       But in that romantic settin’, the trucks whizzin’ by, the lightning an’ thunder outside, an’ the rain beating down on the roof of my ’64 LeMans Pontiac, I pulled her into an embrace an’ asked her to marry me.  Maybe it was a splinter, but she yelped (sorta) an’ said yes.  No, I didn’t get down on bended knee, no I didn’t already have a ring, and almost didn’t get one, but that’s another story.  There wasn’t even a thermos of coffee in the car that we could drink in celebration, but there was a bunch of released tension just like I’d gotten off ol’ Bodacious.
       Pard, I’ll tell yuh, I was one happy feller!  Ten months later we were married.  Now I’m not a-sayin’ that Gary and Kathy’s weddin’ had anything to do with it, but it sure put the thought in our minds.  The Lord works in mysterious ways, an’ Pard, don’t yuh forget it!  A boy from Colorado, meets a girl from Pennsylvania, in Missouri.
       Sure I’m smilin’, memories have a way of doin’ that do yuh.  Either make yuh smile, or gives the gizzard fits dependin’ on the memory.  Sorry for the nostalgia, Pard, but the Lord guides our steps and we need to be willin’ to abide by His advice.  I for one sure did reckon that He brought her my way, and the knot the preacher tied (her brother Jon) has sure seen fit and tight.
       Take a looksee in the mirror an’ yu’ll know what I mean about the Lord workin’ in mysterious ways.  Gaze at those lumps–they came from yuh fallin’ on yur noggin’ ’cause yuh didn’t check yur cinch, an’ the good Lord has still seen fit to keep yuh around and use yuh for the Kingdom.
                  Vaya con Dios.