–Lou Bradshaw  (Hickory Jack)

 

Hot ‘nough for yuh, Pard?  Why I thought I’d put the pot on the rocks and see if’n they were hot enough to boil the coffee.  Ha, that was a joke, Pard; don’t be squintin’ like that at me or those furrows on your forehead will be gettin’ deeper.  Supposed to hit triple digits every day next week, say, an’ yuh realize that this is only June.  But on the other hand, we sure did have a nice Spring.

       I saw the other day where a person was speakin’ of coffee and some kind of fancy dessert.  I looked at the photo, an’ sent a message back sayin’ that I didn’t see any coffee.  The reply I received said that it was ice coffee and that it was too hot for hot coffee.  My land, that’s absurd!  Cold coffee taints the taste buds, it numbs the gullet, and the gizzard near goes into shock.  Rain or shine, cold or hot, storm or calm, boil me up some real-to-goodness coffee.

       Pard, go ahead, there’s no ice in that cup, just the true and honest brew of the bean that delights the innards.  Sayin’ that coffee is too hot for the weather is like sayin’ give me a cold steak or not botherin’ to fix supper because of the heat and get a bowl of that breakfast food instead.  Why, I’ve got a hankerin’ for some good ol’ chili right now.  Think I’ll make a pot next week.

       Since I’m a historian, I always think about those pioneers of yesteryear.  Whooeee, they worked right out in the heat.  They didn’t have all the technology or scientific advice, they just knew that the job had to be done.  I”m familiar with the heat.  I had a great grandfather who died of sunstroke workin’ in the wheat fields of Kansas.  Once I had a dose of heat exhaustion–not a fun thing.  This past week, the little one–Julee–had a touch of heat exhaustion.  But think of the cowboy working in the heat, the farmer out plowin’, the townsfolk going about their business with no air conditioner, oh, and by the way, that’s one piece of technology I’m in favor of.  The work had to be done, the chickens had to be fed…well, yuh get the picture.

       Ahh, mighty tasty this mornin’.  But let me tell yuh one other thing.  I’m a sorta theologian, or at least I study the Bible.  Think of the fires of Hades.  Think of the heat of the fiery furnace and the four men walkin’ in it.  There’s comin’ a day when those who don’t know the Lord Jesus will face the fires that are not quenched in the Lake of Fire.

       Sorry Pard, didn’t mean to get so somber, but that’s something we should be concerned about–makin’ sure our loved ones are ready for the comin’ of the Lord, just like you should be checkin’ yur cinch when yuh mount.  Yuh take care this week, stay out of the sun and heat as much as possible–the plan is for the coffee to be ready when yuh come ’round next week.

        Vaya con Dios.

                         –D.C. Adkisson  (Walker)

 

Mornin’ Pard, glad yuh showed up.  Whoopee, it’s been a busy few days, almost didn’t get this up and out.  The ol’ steel mounts were ailin’, had to get them to get taken care of, in fact, one is ailin’ right now with a broken down hoof.  Then had to see the sawbones a couple of times this week.  Nothin’ urgent, he didn’t remove nothin’, but gave me a good bill of health.  That’s good news for this ol’ fence post.

       Father’s Day is tomorrow.  I remember my Dad.  He died before he reached his sixtieth birthday.  In his later years, he was a bit of a conundrum, but the negative side has pretty much faded away.  I remember how we would sit and talk baseball.  He would show me things about the game, then after a game we would dissect it.  He knew the value of work, he told me that the greatest gift his father (my Grandpa) gave him was the value of hard work.  Helpin’ others was part of my Dad’s nature.  Why, Pard, if’n yuh needed it, he’d give yuh the shirt off his back.  Dad worked at many jobs, but mostly he was a truck driver.  One of the greatest compliments he ever gave me was the time we were movin’ Grandma and my Aunt, and I was backin’ up a truck.  He said that he couldn’t have done it any better himself.

       Most of the time, Dad worked two jobs, and wasn’t around.  But let me tell yuh this Pard, go ahead and slurp yur coffee, and I’ll tell yuh, it was Dad that got me to drinkin’ my coffee black.  No cinos from him, no way!  No, he didn’t tell me to drink it thataway, I just watched him.  He liked his black, so I would too.  Don’t ever tell me that yur parents don’t have influence over a youngster.

       Back to what I was goin’ to say.  My heavenly Father is always there.  He is interested in me talkin’ with Him about my plans, I don’t know if’n He smiles, but I know He will tell me that I might want to reconsider something, or He’ll guide me a different direction that what I had intended.  My Dad wasn’t a hugger, neither am I much, but I know my heavenly Father welcomes me to His arms–for protection, for security, for safety, sometimes just for the good feelin’ it gives.  My Dad was a small man in stature, but strong, especially his arms.  I reckon because he drove them big trucks, and that was before power steering.  Shucks, that’s now a candle to the strength of my heavenly Father.  

       Dad was a jack-of-all trades, a fixer-upper.  However, my heavenly Father is the One who made everythin’ from nothin’.  Oh, He fixes things–broken lives, broken hearts, broken souls, but He is also a builder.  Why Pard, let me tell yuh, right now His Son, Jesus, is fixin’ me up a place to stay with Him for eternity.  Yep, I’m part of His family now, an’ that is somethin’.

       Go ahead an’ swaller that last drop.  Be seein’ yuh, if’n yuh don’t fall off yur hoss ’cause yuh forgot to check yur cinch.  Plenty to get done today.

       Vaya con Dios.

                    –Louis L’Amour  (The First Fast Draw)

 

Howdy, Pard, go ahead and grab yur cup.  Pard, I’ve been sippin’ at this coffee an’ ponderin’.  What are the chances that a feller from a valley nestled in close to the Front Range of the Rockies could meet up with a gal, much less marry up with her, from the country not far from the Pennsylvania Alleghenies?  Pard, there is just no way…that is unless the Lord is involved.  Why, I remember walkin’ down the road and saw this pretty young thing walkin’ toward me on the other side.  I cocked an eye at her, she stopped then cocked an eye at me and we stood there, cockeyed as could be, hearts palpitatin’…whoopee, Pard it was something.

       Yuh don’t think it went like that?  Hmm, well, I might just be stretchin’ the truth a bit.  But it didn’t take this ol’ fence post long to recognize that he was in love with that pretty gal.  She wasn’t quite sure at first, no wonder with a fence post like me, but I soon wore her down.  Yep, an’ 52 years ago, we tied that knot good an’ tight.  I stop and the little do-dads run up an’ down my spine to realize that I’ve known her for over 53 years, it took that extra time to get her to say “Yes.”  That’s two-thirds of my life, and almost my complete adult life.

       The Lord knows what He’s a-doin’ bringin’ us together.  Why there weren’t another gal on this green earth that could’ve put up with me.  But it’s important that she or he’s the right one.  A vow is a vow, according to the Bible, and commitment is commitment.  Why, Pard, there ain’t a day that I don’t thank the good Lord for bringin’ her to walk alongside of me through this journey of life.

       Ahhh, the coffee’s good this mornin’ or is it the reminiscing?  Hmm, that makes me wonder how many cups of coffee Annie and I have shared over the years.  Plenty at home, some in eateries, some along campfires.  Good coffee, weak coffee, bad coffee, downright putrid coffee, but mostly tasty coffee–come to think of it Pard, that’s kinda the way married life is.

       Let me heave a big sigh…what a gal, oh, and did I say she knows how to cook?  My oh my can she bake a pie.  With that bein’ said, yuh better be hittin’ the road.  We done drunk the pot dry, and I know there are things that have to be did.  You check yur cinch now, and have a good week.

       Vaya con Dios.

                    –Nathan Wright  (Chester’s Last Ride)

 

Come on in, Pard.  Let’s have some coffee together and jaw some.  Hope yuh had a good week.  Yuh know, for sure, Big Brother’s watchin’ us.  I don’t have no doubt ’bout it!  My eldest daughter sent me some coffee as a gift, and the next day my facebook is full of coffee ads.  How in the world do they know?   Hmmm, perhaps that feminine AI that lingers in the house tells them–Alexa.  But she can’t see…or can she?  No matter, so far the coffee’s been delicious, ahhhh.

       Notice that we have progressed, Pard.  When Heather moved back to Pennsylvania she left us her microwave.  Now I don’t use it much, but I do like popcorn.  Annie will use it to reheat coffee.  Why just the other day she put instant coffee in the microwave and almost went back in time.  Whooeee, good thing I was standin’ near.  I grabbed her to jerk her to keep her in the present.  Those contraptions are dangerous, next time yuh see me, if’n I’m not careful I might be glowin’.

       Pard, we need to laugh once in a while.  If’n yuh don’t think so, just take a look in the mirror.  I just published my latest book, Stiles of Laredo, and have started on another.  I have to stop and think when I use set, sit or sat, lay or lie.  That brought to my recall a story by LeRoy Brownlow.  

 

               As a young minister, Grandpa preached a trial sermon in a village church, hoping to be called to that pulpit.  Later the officials met with him to question his abilities.  Wanting to be sure they got an educated man, they, with the help of a school teacher, had worked up a few special questions to test him.

               The lead man, with an air of scholarship, began:  “Preacher, would you say a hen sets or sits?”

               The young sage from the hills answered:  “I don’t care whether she sits or sets.  What I’m interested in is:  When she cackles, is she laying or lying?”

               There were no more questions.  He got the job.

 

Yesiree, Pard, in this crazy, insane, confused world it’ll do us good to smile once in a while.  Life is serious business, always has been, but I’m tellin’ yuh right smartly that there’s little to smile at with the foolishness of the idiots around.  That’s why when we get the chance we need to smile.  Ol’ Solomon said that laughter was madness, and it doesn’t accomplish anything.  In fact, when yuh read Solomon’s view of laughter it is distressin’.  However, a merry heart is like medicine; it does good.  See, what he is tellin’ us?  There is a difference between the foolishness of laughter and the heart of joy caused by trustin’ in the Lord.

       Ponder that whilst yuh take that last sip.  Pard, I’ve got to tell yuh the truth, if’n yur saddle slips, an’ yuh fall off on yur noggin’ I might just have to laugh at yur foolishness for not checkin’ yur cinch.

       Vaya con Dios.

 

(Story about Grandpa taken from A Time To Laugh)