–Vivian Sinclair  (A Western Christmas)

Pard, come in this kitchen an’ tell me it ain’t true.  Give me the low down, I can handle it, but let me put the pot back on the stove and sit myself down first.  Did I hear right, yuh partook of some eggnog cino?  Oh mercy me, tell me it ain’t so.  What do yuh mean, it was only a little sip?  A little sip of cyanide would be as bad.  Pard, yuh come along way, an’ then yuh up and do this.  Yur not goin’ over to the cino crowd are yuh?  Those yuppies who prance around tip-toein’ through life not realizin’ that life is a battle, a fight, an’ yuh have to be ready to face it, not be drinkin’ eggnog cinos.

     Here, take this cup, it’ll wash down that cravin’ and get yuh back on the right track.  Good strong, black coffee, just the way that nature intended.  Wish I had some camp coffee, that would make it even better.  Pard, I’m glad it was only a sip.  But a sip here, a sip there and soon yur a-sippin’ all the time.  And if’n yur-a doin’ that, well, it means yur no longer just sippin’ but guzzlin’.

     Pard, yuh start with one slip then yuh’ll soon be dyin’ yur hair blue or chartreuse.   If’n yuh don’t watch out, yuh’ll become like the rest of what that ol’ puncher Rhodes called 
“rhomboidinaltitudinous isosohedronal catawampus!”  Now that’s sayin’ somethin’ an’ it’s a mouthful, but it’s a-describin’ some of them vomit-spewin’ liberals.  I don’t want yuh to be like what someone wrote about those liberals who can’t identify a woman, a criminal, a peaceful protest, dementia, or which bathroom to use, but they can identify a fishing boat when they see one.  Listen Pard, the world is confused enough to not be drinkin’ any concocption such as eggnog cino.  Why, Pard, that’ll make yuh forget to check yur cinch, and I’ll go out an’ find yuh a-lyin’ in the mud somewhere’s.

     Keep goin’ straight, upward an’ onward.  Don’t be lettin’ the ol’ world be teasin’ yuh with their spew but ride straight and true.  Keep to the words of the Good Book, and don’t falter in yur faith.  Let me be tellin’ yuh, the Lord is comin’ soon.  Yuh stay alert, ready, and watch not only the trail, but the skies for His return.  Now come, next week, I don’t to be hearin’ yuh tell me that yuh had eggnog cino.  If’n yuh want to drink straight eggnog that’s one thing, but don’t be a-mixin’ it with the true elixir.  An’ I don’t want to be hearin’ that someone had to be pickin’ yuh up ’cause yuh didn’t check yur cinch.  See, this life is rough at times, and we must be alert and doin’ right.

      Vaya con Dios.

                    –Ernest Haycox  (Saddle and Ride)

 

Mornin’ to yuh, Pard.  I heard yur step comin’ up the walk.  Since Thanksgivin’ it’s not so light as it used to be.  Pard, the pot is on, the day is before us and the Lord shore is good to us.  Plus the fact that the missus made a fantabulicious rhubarb pie yesterday.  Been ages since I had one of those, and mmmm, mmmm, it was good.  We’ve refused to buy rhubarb, why it was all around us when the two of us were growin’ up.  Folks never thought of goin’ to the grocery to buy rhubarb.  Wishin’ I had a patch of it.  Funny, a pie brinin’ back memories.  But then that’s part of the purpose of sittin’ down at the kitchen table, havin’ a piece of pie with a good cup of coffee an’ rememberin’.

     Don’t want to make yur bile rise whilst yur drinkin’, but more and more I see the words that Paul wrote bein’ fulfilled.  “Claimin’ to be wise, they became fools.”  Jist listen to some of the words that spill out of their mouths.  Plain foolishness.  The mayor of Chicago, is there anythin’ in his noggin’?  Then we have the newly elected Muslim in New York–crazy that he would be elected after 9/11, an’ on top of that he is a crazy man with insane ideas.  Woe, is the word that comes to my mind.

     Speakin’ of the folks in New York forgettin’ 9/11 so soon, yuh need to be rememberin’ tomorrow.  Yep, Pearl Harbor day.  Sunday mornin’ back in 1941, that dastardly deed was done that would send this country to war causin’ the bloodshed of thousands of American men.  Pard, it makes me wonder if we don’t appreciate this country enough.  The Lord has shore blessed us, and now we see people doin’ things totally contrary to His Word.  I also wonder what the veterans of Afghanistan and Iraq think of a Muslim mayor in of all places New York City.

     But Pard, tis the season to be jolly.  Reckon I am in my own way.  Try to keep the joy, joy, joy down in my heart.  Try to always be thankful.  I know, that I’m in good hands for He is a good Father.  Yuh be rememberin’ that when yuh take a sip of coffee, or eggnog this season.  Yuh be remembrin’ the Light that led the wise men to the Babe.  Yuh be rememberin’ that the Lord Jesus came as a baby to become the great sacrifice for our sins.  What a reason for the joy, what a reason for the season!

     Don’t be lettin’ the hustle an’ bustle make yuh forget that reason.  Keep the proper focus so’s yuh don’t forget to check yur cinch.

     Vaya con Dios.

            –Irving Berlin

 

Mercy me, Pard!  Looks like yuh ate the whole turkey and most of the dressin’.  Feelin’ poorly towards yur hoss this mornin’.  What’s that?  It wasn’t the turkey, it was the pie.  Well, I reckon I can understand that.  Whoopee, but wasn’t it wonderful at the camp.  The weather mostly was cooperative, and fellowship grand, and the food superb, especially that Thanksgiving dinner.  Yuh know, Pard, it makes me thankful that we live in a country that has time set on the calendar to celebrate a day of thankfulness.

     Oh, don’t let me forget the coffee, yur cup is there on the table.  Ahhh, good coffee, tryin’ something new, Lavazza Super Crema an’ I crunched up the beans this mornin’.  Smell it ‘fore yuh go slurpin’ it.  Mighty fine, mighty fine…

     Now, as I was a-sayin’, sittin’ ’round the campfire, drinkin’ plenty of coffee I was ponderin’ from time to time the idea of bein’ thankful.  My, there is so much, and we don’t think of half the things we should be thankin’ the Lord for.  Just think, we should be thankin’ Him for this gadget I used to grind the beans, and the pot I brewed it in, and the cup yur a-holdin’, plus the delcious brew itself.  When we get to thinkin’ rightly, we get to thankin’ rightly and more often.  

     I don’t want to be spoilin’ yur sippin’, but I saw where there are some fools, not ignorant, but downright moronic folk who think…no they don’t think, they say that Thanksgiving is racist.  One snip was sayin’ that it was the day that the Europeans started the conquerin’ of the Indians.  Yuh know, she should be thankful for the Europeans or she wouldn’t be here, livin’ in this country, and able to be spoutin’ her poor measly mouth off.   Yes, there were problems and wrong-doin’s by all parties, but there was so much happenin’ in the providence of God.  Just think, and be thankful, for all the millions that have come to know the Lord either directly or indirectly from those few that took a bold step in pioneerin’ this country.  Let’s drink another cup of coffee to them, I won’t be feedin’ yuh no more pie for a while.

     We’re headin’ into the wonderful month of December that will close out the year, but also brings us to an invitation to be celebratin’ the birth of our Lord and Savior.  Be thankin’ the Lord, not only for the Savior, but also that we take time to recognize the miraculous birth.  Ahh, so much to take in, so much to be thankful for.  Why, Pard, I’m thankful that yuh showed up today, an’ didn’t forget to check yur cinch.  Why with those Thanksgivin’ pounds added yur saddle for shore would’ve slipped.

     Vaya con Dios.

                    –Louis L’Amour  (Conagher)

 

Here yuh go, Pard.  Nice and hot, and plenty strong.  Sure hopin’ it puts yuh in a good mood, yuh know what they say.  What?  My coffee is strong enough to remove a tattoo?  Well, Pard, I wish it was, there’s shore enough of them bein’ painted on folks anymore.  What a sight!  But no, here’s what I was goin’ to say, this mornin’s good mood is sponsored by coffee good and strong.  No cinos, just plain coffee.  Ahhh, that’ll fix yur mood right up.  Fact is the only thing better is to add some time with the Lord to it.  My, how I enjoy sittin’, readin’, lookin’ out in the trees, and drinkin’ my mornin’ coffee.  Life is good, God is good.

     Pard, Thanksgivin’ is right around the corner.  Time for some nostalgia, time to be thinkin’ of times past, and more importantly, it’s time to be makin’ new memories.  Yep, the missus will be makin’ several pies, some pumpkin pecan, a German chocolate, maybe an apple, a cherry-berry, and of course that Thanksgivin’ staple, plain ol’ pumpkin.  Whoop!  The stomach is jumpin’ already in delight just a-thinkin’.  Then we’ll be with friends and family at the campsite.  Looks like no campfire this year as we’ve got a burn ban goin’.  Shame we have to have those, but folks just don’t know how to be good woodsmen.  Think it sorta ties in with the fact that they don’t know how to be good stewards. 

     People get sloppy, careless an’ many don’t even care ’bout what they’re doin’ an’ what could happen.  I’ve seen plenty a fellow burnt, or cut, or walk away leavin’ a fire burnin’.  They don’t care, or if’n they do they don’t show it.  Same ways with the things of the Lord.  He gives a blessin’ an’ it’s ignored, or used wrongly.  Some folks don’t take care of the things He gives ’em, they waste, they disfigure, they abuse those wonderful blessin’ of the Lord.  Some of the things they do with the gifts from the Lord are worse than diggin’ a hole and buryin’ it.

     But ‘nough of that negativity; it’s Thanksgiving.  Time to be rememberin’ our blessin’s and thankin’ the Lord for them and all that He has done.  My mercy, Pard, that shore a heapful!  An’ what’s more–He keeps on a-givin’ an’ a-blessin’.  Take a deep breath, no, there’s not a pie in the oven, but go ahead.  Now, think, He has given you the breath of life, and even more so because of Jesus He’s given us the breath of eternal life.  My, my…

     So Pard, be enjoyin’ all the blessin’s that are part of Thanksgivin’.  Some don’t have it so well.  Some lost it all, like ol’ Job.  But then remember, that old man got more than before.  It’ll be the same when we walk through the gates of that heavenly city, an’ sit down at that table.  My, I wonder if’n we’ll find out that manna was really apple pie?  

     Be havin’ a good week, and bein’ thankful.  Don’t spoil it all by not checkin’ yur cinch.

     Vaya con Dios.