Perty Dawn
Well bout three and a half years back I had a lil extra cash and a hankerin for a new horse. You can ask anyone round the Lazy E; they’ll tell ya that’s a dang dangerous combination. Scuse me ladies. I shouldn’t of cussed like that. My mama didn’t raise no rude children that lived.
Anyways, I headed up to the city. Now ta some folks Tyler, Tx ain’t a city. But the area round the ranch makes Tyler look like Shanghai. (I remember from high school that Shanghai got a lot of folks)
Well I jumped inta Lil Red. That’s what I call the F150. She ain’t as perty as she used ta be but she’s paid for and that goes a long way. So I headed to T-town. The drive ain’t all that long. Just a couple of hours and that’s short by ranchin standards. Ya see if ya got nuff land ta really ranch (I ain’t talkin bout hobby ranchin; I mean REAL ranchin) a lot a times ya can go a full workin day and not see no shaddahs cept yurs and yur horse. Now you townies understand a full workin day ain’t eight ta five. It’s from can to caint. Ya gets up as early as ya can and go home when yur britches cain’t stand the saddle no more. So a couple of hours in Lil Red is easier than frog giggin in a swamp in July. (I ain’t gonna explain that one. )
The whole ride over I was listenin ta “King George”. For a lil guy from middle-of-nowhere Texas he sure done good. I think that boy could record himself gargling cod liver oil and still get a top five.
Well I hit T-town round half past noon. Funny thing, when I was a youngin time had some range to it. Half past noon was any time after midday when the big hand was waggin low. Nowdays folks talk bout 12:31 and 12:29. It’s like them two minutes gonna change life as we know it on the face of the planet! I kinda miss them simple days. But maybe I gotta start watchin them minutes. I ain’t got but so many left. I’m old as Moses’ toes and twice as corny. I can attest to the old part (kinda-sorta) and iffin you ever heard one of my yarns before you’ll swear by the corny part.
Dang it!!! (Sorry again ladies!) I’m wanderin again. I need ta stop that.
Anyways, I got ta T-ville round 12:29:37 and hit up the auction barn. Now in general when I get ta auction, I visit wid the buyers and kinda use the corner of my eye ta look fur what I’m lookin fur. Kinda like playin poker. Never wanna tip yur hand. And that was my plan this time. Well every now and then the best planned plans of critters and folks gets off course. I looked dead left and looked straight in the eyes of the pertiest filly I ever set sight to! She was scrawnier than one of them store bought chickens and covered wid mud. But what I saw was a thoroughbred with a gleamin coat and a heart a gold.
Like I said, when yur at the auction barn ya don’t wanna tip yur likes. So I figures I’d just hold off a while before I checked the lil thang out. But don’t ya know it wudn’t two shakes of a lamb’s tail before I felt something brushin my shoulder. Yep, that scrawny runt found me.
I looked her over like I hadn’t made up my mind; But I dag blasted sure had. Dang easy ta see she was one of them critters that just “wouldn’t do”. One critters that just wudn’t treated right from the get-go so she just bowed up now and again.
Well, I gave her a lump a sugar, a carrot, and stroked her main fur purt near two hours. And boys let me tell you them two hours were as sweet as kissin yur girlfriend for the first time! That one smooch ya remembers the rest of yur life!
I didn’t buy her cuz she wudn’t fur sale. The boy that owned her traded her out from time ta time which made no sense ta me. Ta my way of thinkin she wouldn’t like bein a show piece and that’s why she hid herself under all that mud.
Anyway, the filly’s name was Alba de Toda la Beleza. That’s Spanish for Dawn of All Beauty. Well the name dang sure nuff fit but kinda long. So I just called her Dawn.
Come ta find out that Dawn’s pasture was only a couple hours down the road from the Lazy E. Like I told ya afore, a couple hours in Lil Red ain’t nothin. So I visited her when I got the chance. Not as often as I’d a liked (ranchin gets in the way a good times). Every time I saw her I made sure ta brush and groom her. Just seemed the right thing ta do. Just a need ta spoil her. And lil by lil she cleaned up real good. Faster than green grass goes through a goose that sweet thang I saw under all that mud way back when shined through fur all ta see.
Gave me a lot of joy ta be round that filly. But ya know, even when I wudn’t round her she was in my mind and heart. Every time I went ta the feed store I’d look fur something she’d like. Nothin special, just a lil somethin. Every time I went ta the tack shop I’d find a lil somethin. Nothin special, just a lil somethin. An it shore did make my heart happy.
Cain’t tell ya how many happy hours I spent wid her. Then one day while on a trail ride she bucked just a bit. I was dirt down tired that day an the timin was real bad! I hit the reins and she bowed up. Hit the reins more; she bowed up more. I started yellin at her badder than a fire-an-brimstone preacher at a Wednesday night revival. She wudn’t listenin. I was hurtin and mad and I spurred her. Was just tryin ta get her ta know my butt was sore an the buckin needed ta stop. She throwed me; put a hoof ta my chest; and run off.
I was busted up real bad. The kinda bad that hurts every time yur heart beats. The kinda bad that makes ya wanna stop breathin. I drug myself ta Babs’ place for some doctorin. Babs is Fletch’s bride and she’s real good at getting the hurt out of ya. She and Fletch been married fifty years for fifty years. (I’ll spin on that another time.) She patched me up a might. Went ta the witchy woman that lives over by Hilton Hill too. That didn’t help none but sometimes ya do stupid things to get rid of pain.
I decided ta visit with Dawn one more time. In my head (which wudn’t workin right ever since I got stomped) iffin I could take her on the trail jist once, times would be what they wuz and I wouldn’t hurt no more.
Anyways, I got inta Lil Red and found a good piece of land just down the road from Dawn’s pasture. Nice comfortable place ta camp out. I brung some of Zeke’s best squeezins just ta help get me ta dozin. And it shore nuff did.
It was after midnight and there was a thunder storm howlin. The world just wudn’t right. I peaked out my tent and the biggest, meanest, baddest bolt of lightning hit dead center in Dawn’s pasture. It was so mean the electricity went through the ground, through my spurs, and through my body hard enough to make me wonder if I’d ever be able ta have kids! But that weren’t nothing; the dang bolt from Hell started a dang fire in Dawn’s pasture.
I jumped in Lil Red and flied as hard as I could. Harder and more direct than one of them trained homin pigeons folks race. Still seemed ta take longer than creation, but I finally found Dawn. Her eyes were wild and crazy; she was starin at that big ol’ fire and didn’t care bout nothing else. Didn’t care bout me; didn’t care bout hersef; didn’t care bout nothin that ever been special to her. Mud was all over her just like the first time I saw her. And don’t ya know I could still see the perty filly same as always.
Talked her down the best I could which wudn’t real good. Least I knowed she wudn’t gonna run ta that fire no more that night.
Next day I went by her pasture one more time. Brushed her. Gave her a lil sugar. Her eyes were soft again. They wudn’t them devil eyes from the night before, they were the same eyes I seen in my head a million times afore and will see a million times more.
I had ta head back ta the ranch which wudn’t what I wanted ta do. But a ranch is more demandin than a a poor preacher tryin ta build a cathedral (that’s a big church just in case ya didn’t know). Ranchin is a way of life. It’s somethin ya just do.
Word got ta me that she had a new owner so I guess I need ta stop goin by that part of Texas. Not my choice. Ain’t happy bout it. And I still hope I ain’t right.
Folks say, “Time heals all wounds.” But that ain’t right. Ain’t nothing like getting tore up when ya loses soemthin ya purely loves. That hurt don’t heal; NEVER. Every time ya thinks bout the loss it hurts the same; it don’t get no better and ya still keeps thinkin bout it. But the good Lord gives ya a gift. Ya see if the love ya gave was unconditional, ya cain’t stop givin it. It flows from ya pure and natural as a mountain river. And that’s a good thing. I know real personal bout that. I’m still givin.
Well, I spun this one long nuff.
Wyatt (But y’all can call me EDog)
Anyways, I headed up to the city. Now ta some folks Tyler, Tx ain’t a city. But the area round the ranch makes Tyler look like Shanghai. (I remember from high school that Shanghai got a lot of folks)
Well I jumped inta Lil Red. That’s what I call the F150. She ain’t as perty as she used ta be but she’s paid for and that goes a long way. So I headed to T-town. The drive ain’t all that long. Just a couple of hours and that’s short by ranchin standards. Ya see if ya got nuff land ta really ranch (I ain’t talkin bout hobby ranchin; I mean REAL ranchin) a lot a times ya can go a full workin day and not see no shaddahs cept yurs and yur horse. Now you townies understand a full workin day ain’t eight ta five. It’s from can to caint. Ya gets up as early as ya can and go home when yur britches cain’t stand the saddle no more. So a couple of hours in Lil Red is easier than frog giggin in a swamp in July. (I ain’t gonna explain that one. )
The whole ride over I was listenin ta “King George”. For a lil guy from middle-of-nowhere Texas he sure done good. I think that boy could record himself gargling cod liver oil and still get a top five.
Well I hit T-town round half past noon. Funny thing, when I was a youngin time had some range to it. Half past noon was any time after midday when the big hand was waggin low. Nowdays folks talk bout 12:31 and 12:29. It’s like them two minutes gonna change life as we know it on the face of the planet! I kinda miss them simple days. But maybe I gotta start watchin them minutes. I ain’t got but so many left. I’m old as Moses’ toes and twice as corny. I can attest to the old part (kinda-sorta) and iffin you ever heard one of my yarns before you’ll swear by the corny part.
Dang it!!! (Sorry again ladies!) I’m wanderin again. I need ta stop that.
Anyways, I got ta T-ville round 12:29:37 and hit up the auction barn. Now in general when I get ta auction, I visit wid the buyers and kinda use the corner of my eye ta look fur what I’m lookin fur. Kinda like playin poker. Never wanna tip yur hand. And that was my plan this time. Well every now and then the best planned plans of critters and folks gets off course. I looked dead left and looked straight in the eyes of the pertiest filly I ever set sight to! She was scrawnier than one of them store bought chickens and covered wid mud. But what I saw was a thoroughbred with a gleamin coat and a heart a gold.
Like I said, when yur at the auction barn ya don’t wanna tip yur likes. So I figures I’d just hold off a while before I checked the lil thang out. But don’t ya know it wudn’t two shakes of a lamb’s tail before I felt something brushin my shoulder. Yep, that scrawny runt found me.
I looked her over like I hadn’t made up my mind; But I dag blasted sure had. Dang easy ta see she was one of them critters that just “wouldn’t do”. One critters that just wudn’t treated right from the get-go so she just bowed up now and again.
Well, I gave her a lump a sugar, a carrot, and stroked her main fur purt near two hours. And boys let me tell you them two hours were as sweet as kissin yur girlfriend for the first time! That one smooch ya remembers the rest of yur life!
I didn’t buy her cuz she wudn’t fur sale. The boy that owned her traded her out from time ta time which made no sense ta me. Ta my way of thinkin she wouldn’t like bein a show piece and that’s why she hid herself under all that mud.
Anyway, the filly’s name was Alba de Toda la Beleza. That’s Spanish for Dawn of All Beauty. Well the name dang sure nuff fit but kinda long. So I just called her Dawn.
Come ta find out that Dawn’s pasture was only a couple hours down the road from the Lazy E. Like I told ya afore, a couple hours in Lil Red ain’t nothin. So I visited her when I got the chance. Not as often as I’d a liked (ranchin gets in the way a good times). Every time I saw her I made sure ta brush and groom her. Just seemed the right thing ta do. Just a need ta spoil her. And lil by lil she cleaned up real good. Faster than green grass goes through a goose that sweet thang I saw under all that mud way back when shined through fur all ta see.
Gave me a lot of joy ta be round that filly. But ya know, even when I wudn’t round her she was in my mind and heart. Every time I went ta the feed store I’d look fur something she’d like. Nothin special, just a lil somethin. Every time I went ta the tack shop I’d find a lil somethin. Nothin special, just a lil somethin. An it shore did make my heart happy.
Cain’t tell ya how many happy hours I spent wid her. Then one day while on a trail ride she bucked just a bit. I was dirt down tired that day an the timin was real bad! I hit the reins and she bowed up. Hit the reins more; she bowed up more. I started yellin at her badder than a fire-an-brimstone preacher at a Wednesday night revival. She wudn’t listenin. I was hurtin and mad and I spurred her. Was just tryin ta get her ta know my butt was sore an the buckin needed ta stop. She throwed me; put a hoof ta my chest; and run off.
I was busted up real bad. The kinda bad that hurts every time yur heart beats. The kinda bad that makes ya wanna stop breathin. I drug myself ta Babs’ place for some doctorin. Babs is Fletch’s bride and she’s real good at getting the hurt out of ya. She and Fletch been married fifty years for fifty years. (I’ll spin on that another time.) She patched me up a might. Went ta the witchy woman that lives over by Hilton Hill too. That didn’t help none but sometimes ya do stupid things to get rid of pain.
I decided ta visit with Dawn one more time. In my head (which wudn’t workin right ever since I got stomped) iffin I could take her on the trail jist once, times would be what they wuz and I wouldn’t hurt no more.
Anyways, I got inta Lil Red and found a good piece of land just down the road from Dawn’s pasture. Nice comfortable place ta camp out. I brung some of Zeke’s best squeezins just ta help get me ta dozin. And it shore nuff did.
It was after midnight and there was a thunder storm howlin. The world just wudn’t right. I peaked out my tent and the biggest, meanest, baddest bolt of lightning hit dead center in Dawn’s pasture. It was so mean the electricity went through the ground, through my spurs, and through my body hard enough to make me wonder if I’d ever be able ta have kids! But that weren’t nothing; the dang bolt from Hell started a dang fire in Dawn’s pasture.
I jumped in Lil Red and flied as hard as I could. Harder and more direct than one of them trained homin pigeons folks race. Still seemed ta take longer than creation, but I finally found Dawn. Her eyes were wild and crazy; she was starin at that big ol’ fire and didn’t care bout nothing else. Didn’t care bout me; didn’t care bout hersef; didn’t care bout nothin that ever been special to her. Mud was all over her just like the first time I saw her. And don’t ya know I could still see the perty filly same as always.
Talked her down the best I could which wudn’t real good. Least I knowed she wudn’t gonna run ta that fire no more that night.
Next day I went by her pasture one more time. Brushed her. Gave her a lil sugar. Her eyes were soft again. They wudn’t them devil eyes from the night before, they were the same eyes I seen in my head a million times afore and will see a million times more.
I had ta head back ta the ranch which wudn’t what I wanted ta do. But a ranch is more demandin than a a poor preacher tryin ta build a cathedral (that’s a big church just in case ya didn’t know). Ranchin is a way of life. It’s somethin ya just do.
Word got ta me that she had a new owner so I guess I need ta stop goin by that part of Texas. Not my choice. Ain’t happy bout it. And I still hope I ain’t right.
Folks say, “Time heals all wounds.” But that ain’t right. Ain’t nothing like getting tore up when ya loses soemthin ya purely loves. That hurt don’t heal; NEVER. Every time ya thinks bout the loss it hurts the same; it don’t get no better and ya still keeps thinkin bout it. But the good Lord gives ya a gift. Ya see if the love ya gave was unconditional, ya cain’t stop givin it. It flows from ya pure and natural as a mountain river. And that’s a good thing. I know real personal bout that. I’m still givin.
Well, I spun this one long nuff.
Wyatt (But y’all can call me EDog)
Folks Down the Road
Folks down the road, Fletch and Babs, been married for fifty years. Well, least that’s what they say. Course been the same thing for fifty years. Ya see they believe real hard in that, “death to ya part,” thing and they got no plans ta leavin anytime soon. So about their second or fifteenth year hitched they stopped countin and started tellin everyone it’d been fifty years together. Was kinda funny when folks heard a couple so young say they’d been hitched fifty. Now everyone’s used to it and we all kinda smile and hopes we last like them.
Anyways, a good while back Fletch decided he’d done ranched long nuff. He sold off their herd for a might tidy sum and settled back. Now course he couldn’t go full out retired; no rancher does. He kept a few of them mammas and babies with lots of brands on em. The kind that needs lots a attention, just to keep him busy.
Now Babs had other thinkin on her mind. She’d spent all seven days of creation (don’t think she even took the seventh day off) tendin to her youngins and Fletch. Sittin in the rocker just didn’t set right. So she started goin to the doc’s office real regular. Not cuz there was anything hurtin on her but cuz she liked talkin folks outta their hurt.
And she was dang good at it! She’d just visit, and smile, and listen, and folks would feel better. Kinda like old time doctorin; when ya felt poorly and went to the doc. He’d just look in your ears, stick that popsicle stick down your throat, say you’re fine and then ya was.
Babs was specially good wid youngins. See the doc tended to buy puzzles for each youngin. Figured it would keep them occupied and quiet. But ya know kids. They lose a piece or two and then can’t put the dang thing together. Well Babs got down right gifted at cutting missin pieces for puzzles. Can’t tell ya how many puzzles she fixed. She got so good docs over in the big city way over ta Shreveport would call her in ta fix things for ‘em.
Anyways, like I told ya Fletch and Babs been married fifty years forever. But that don’t mean they don’t have a red circle round they’re special day on the calendar. Heck, I cain’t believe it ain’t in the almanac by now.
Well last year their circle day dropped on the Friday after Thankgivin. Babs fixed Fletch a breakfast spread that woulda made them folks at IHOP right proud. Biscuits, gravy, sausage, bacon eggs, ham! And grits with real butter and whole milk. Docs frown on such but your mouth sure does like it!
Now Fletch don’t eat like my boys do no more. All that food looked like sacrifices to brazen images. But he ate his fill and had some of everything. He tried to hide the fact he felt like a Thanksgivin turkey stuffed wid a full sized hog. But Babs knowed better when he went off for a nap.
Well that afternoon Babs hadda go visit some youngins over ta Shreveport. Was gonna be after dark afore she got back so she asked Fletch ta leave the porch light on.
Babs tended ta matters in the city and headed for home. Sun had already set and she wudn’t happy. Now my Mrs. (folks call her Mel but she don’t like it) got a way a thinkin; nothin good happens after midnight. Babs takes it past that; nothin good happens after sunset.
Anyways, Babs was drivin and it was one of them moonless, starless nights. Wudn’t cuz of them city lights drownin out nature. Just nature not wantin ta light up. Make sense? Babs was a frettin. Drivin without moon nor stars made her heart start palpitating like the first time she seen Fletch but in a bad way. Don’t ya know right around Kilgore two eighteen wheelers got on I20 and lit up the road? Made Babs feel a lil safer but she knowed wudn’t for long,
She made the exit onto the Farm to Market and got kinda puzzled. Right there at the turn off was a kerosene lamp. Darn thing was tilted to the left which was just the way she had to go.
She was way down the FM til she got to the County Road that runs by the LazyE on the way to hers and Fletch’s place. Dang iffin there wudn’t one of them big ol flashlights like the troupers use to search a car at night pointin the way down the road.
She passed by the LazyE and the front fencin was lit like the Alaskan star line wid Christmas lights. “Dang!” she thought, “Mel (that’s the Mrs. I’ll tell ya bout the another time) shore did git them lights up early this year. It’s usually the Saturday after Thanksgivin afore she gits EDog to wirin lights!”
Couple miles down the road later she passed the Bovines’ spread. Don’t ya know thar was a bonfire burnin big and bright. “If I hear a fiddle I know it’s Nero and that must be Rome!” she chuckled.
When Babs got to the turn off to hers and Fletch’s place she got kinda scared. There was a glow so bright it made ya think the good Lord made an eighth day and decided the sun and moon wudn’t nuff!! At first she thought their house must be flamin like the Chicaga fire. But the light was white, not flamin red. Then like she was at one of them Hollywood thangs lights turned on from both sides of the road. The drive to her big house was lined by twenty-five pickups on each side of the way.
Fifty trucks… Fords, GMs, Rams… All kinds of trucks turned their lights on ta git her on home. And as she went by each set of trucks turned on their brights. It was kinda like them honor guard fellars crossin swords as a princess passed em.
When she got ta the big house every light was on. Now that ain’t like Fletch. He ain’t cheap; spends a dollar when needed. But he’s been knowed ta pinch a penny so tight ol Abe comes out the other side.
Babs head was spinnin like she’d gotten inta some of Zeke’s best squeezins when she come in the back door to the kitchen. But if that was what drinkin felt like she just might start doin it regular. But only on Friday and Saturday nights, of course.
Next thing Babs saw made her jaw drop to the floor so fast and bounce back so hard she thunk she’d been hit by one of them big ol boys that bare knuckle fights on Saturday nights back on the Hilton land. (Ladies ain’t sposed ta know bout them fights. But some fellars can’t help squealin like a stuck pig.)
Anyways, there on the table was the mealiest excuse for chicken fried steak a body did ever see! Soggy on the outside… Cold on the inside… Too much salt; not enough pepper; milk gravy that was so thin and gray ya’d think it was from last Monday’s boiled washin. (Don’t know why women folk out here do boiled washin on Mondays. But they’s been doin it since their mama’s mama’s time.). Well ta Babs that stank piece of cow chew tasted sweeter than kissin!
She floated up the stairs to her bedroom feelin pertier and more special than the first time her mama put lipstick on her and lit her be seed in public.
When she opened the door Fletch was like he’d been for fifty years; sleepin on his right side wid his mouth open. But he wudn’t snorin. (Fletch likes it quiet at night and just don’t snore).
But every light in the room was lit up. Heck, Fletch even brought up a couple a standin lamps from the storm cellar for good measure.
And on Babs’ pillah thar was a lil piece of yellar paper. Wid some writin on it. “Them trucks findin ya wudn’t easy. Another fifty years?”
I guess iffin ya gives for a time and asks fur a lil, sometimes ya gits a lot.
Anyways, that’s a lil bout Babs n Fletch.
Wyatt (But y’all can call me EDog)
Anyways, a good while back Fletch decided he’d done ranched long nuff. He sold off their herd for a might tidy sum and settled back. Now course he couldn’t go full out retired; no rancher does. He kept a few of them mammas and babies with lots of brands on em. The kind that needs lots a attention, just to keep him busy.
Now Babs had other thinkin on her mind. She’d spent all seven days of creation (don’t think she even took the seventh day off) tendin to her youngins and Fletch. Sittin in the rocker just didn’t set right. So she started goin to the doc’s office real regular. Not cuz there was anything hurtin on her but cuz she liked talkin folks outta their hurt.
And she was dang good at it! She’d just visit, and smile, and listen, and folks would feel better. Kinda like old time doctorin; when ya felt poorly and went to the doc. He’d just look in your ears, stick that popsicle stick down your throat, say you’re fine and then ya was.
Babs was specially good wid youngins. See the doc tended to buy puzzles for each youngin. Figured it would keep them occupied and quiet. But ya know kids. They lose a piece or two and then can’t put the dang thing together. Well Babs got down right gifted at cutting missin pieces for puzzles. Can’t tell ya how many puzzles she fixed. She got so good docs over in the big city way over ta Shreveport would call her in ta fix things for ‘em.
Anyways, like I told ya Fletch and Babs been married fifty years forever. But that don’t mean they don’t have a red circle round they’re special day on the calendar. Heck, I cain’t believe it ain’t in the almanac by now.
Well last year their circle day dropped on the Friday after Thankgivin. Babs fixed Fletch a breakfast spread that woulda made them folks at IHOP right proud. Biscuits, gravy, sausage, bacon eggs, ham! And grits with real butter and whole milk. Docs frown on such but your mouth sure does like it!
Now Fletch don’t eat like my boys do no more. All that food looked like sacrifices to brazen images. But he ate his fill and had some of everything. He tried to hide the fact he felt like a Thanksgivin turkey stuffed wid a full sized hog. But Babs knowed better when he went off for a nap.
Well that afternoon Babs hadda go visit some youngins over ta Shreveport. Was gonna be after dark afore she got back so she asked Fletch ta leave the porch light on.
Babs tended ta matters in the city and headed for home. Sun had already set and she wudn’t happy. Now my Mrs. (folks call her Mel but she don’t like it) got a way a thinkin; nothin good happens after midnight. Babs takes it past that; nothin good happens after sunset.
Anyways, Babs was drivin and it was one of them moonless, starless nights. Wudn’t cuz of them city lights drownin out nature. Just nature not wantin ta light up. Make sense? Babs was a frettin. Drivin without moon nor stars made her heart start palpitating like the first time she seen Fletch but in a bad way. Don’t ya know right around Kilgore two eighteen wheelers got on I20 and lit up the road? Made Babs feel a lil safer but she knowed wudn’t for long,
She made the exit onto the Farm to Market and got kinda puzzled. Right there at the turn off was a kerosene lamp. Darn thing was tilted to the left which was just the way she had to go.
She was way down the FM til she got to the County Road that runs by the LazyE on the way to hers and Fletch’s place. Dang iffin there wudn’t one of them big ol flashlights like the troupers use to search a car at night pointin the way down the road.
She passed by the LazyE and the front fencin was lit like the Alaskan star line wid Christmas lights. “Dang!” she thought, “Mel (that’s the Mrs. I’ll tell ya bout the another time) shore did git them lights up early this year. It’s usually the Saturday after Thanksgivin afore she gits EDog to wirin lights!”
Couple miles down the road later she passed the Bovines’ spread. Don’t ya know thar was a bonfire burnin big and bright. “If I hear a fiddle I know it’s Nero and that must be Rome!” she chuckled.
When Babs got to the turn off to hers and Fletch’s place she got kinda scared. There was a glow so bright it made ya think the good Lord made an eighth day and decided the sun and moon wudn’t nuff!! At first she thought their house must be flamin like the Chicaga fire. But the light was white, not flamin red. Then like she was at one of them Hollywood thangs lights turned on from both sides of the road. The drive to her big house was lined by twenty-five pickups on each side of the way.
Fifty trucks… Fords, GMs, Rams… All kinds of trucks turned their lights on ta git her on home. And as she went by each set of trucks turned on their brights. It was kinda like them honor guard fellars crossin swords as a princess passed em.
When she got ta the big house every light was on. Now that ain’t like Fletch. He ain’t cheap; spends a dollar when needed. But he’s been knowed ta pinch a penny so tight ol Abe comes out the other side.
Babs head was spinnin like she’d gotten inta some of Zeke’s best squeezins when she come in the back door to the kitchen. But if that was what drinkin felt like she just might start doin it regular. But only on Friday and Saturday nights, of course.
Next thing Babs saw made her jaw drop to the floor so fast and bounce back so hard she thunk she’d been hit by one of them big ol boys that bare knuckle fights on Saturday nights back on the Hilton land. (Ladies ain’t sposed ta know bout them fights. But some fellars can’t help squealin like a stuck pig.)
Anyways, there on the table was the mealiest excuse for chicken fried steak a body did ever see! Soggy on the outside… Cold on the inside… Too much salt; not enough pepper; milk gravy that was so thin and gray ya’d think it was from last Monday’s boiled washin. (Don’t know why women folk out here do boiled washin on Mondays. But they’s been doin it since their mama’s mama’s time.). Well ta Babs that stank piece of cow chew tasted sweeter than kissin!
She floated up the stairs to her bedroom feelin pertier and more special than the first time her mama put lipstick on her and lit her be seed in public.
When she opened the door Fletch was like he’d been for fifty years; sleepin on his right side wid his mouth open. But he wudn’t snorin. (Fletch likes it quiet at night and just don’t snore).
But every light in the room was lit up. Heck, Fletch even brought up a couple a standin lamps from the storm cellar for good measure.
And on Babs’ pillah thar was a lil piece of yellar paper. Wid some writin on it. “Them trucks findin ya wudn’t easy. Another fifty years?”
I guess iffin ya gives for a time and asks fur a lil, sometimes ya gits a lot.
Anyways, that’s a lil bout Babs n Fletch.
Wyatt (But y’all can call me EDog)
Messages in the Sand
Greetings from the ranch!
Well me & the Mrs. took our third vacation
without the youngins. First one was our honeymoon but my mama taught
me ya don't talk 'bout that.
Anyways we done close to a week down at Padre. Funny thing 'bout
Padre, folks down there can always tell a rancher kickin' back. Second
year in a row them folks just listened & listened on yarns 'bout the
Lazy E. Guess ocean folks crave land & ranchers crave the shore. Least
me & the Mrs. do.
Well one day I was doin' a walk. Nothin' special; just a walk to clear
my head. I did one every day cuz my head needs lots of clearin'. Mrs.
says my hard drive needs cleanin', whaever that means.
Well, I got an idea whilst I was walkin'. Why waste good money on them
tacky souvenirs? So I started writin' in the sand. Just lil ole
things to people I cared 'bout. Figured puttin' it in the sand was
just right. Folks on the beach could read it & know there was someone
special miles & miles away. The good Lord would see it & spread the
word. And when the Lord was done He'd wipe it out in His good time.
And I knowed He would pass the word to the folks I loved that I was
thinkin' 'bout 'em.
Don't ya know folks on the beach took a likin' to writin' messages in
the sand! Spanish, English, it didn't matter.
Guess sometimes folks just need to remember ain't nothin' better than
thinkin' 'bout folks. Dollars are good but a simple thought goes a
long way.
Anyways, that's what me & the Mrs. done.
Wyatt (but y'all can call me EDog)
Greetings from the ranch!
Well me & the Mrs. took our third vacation
without the youngins. First one was our honeymoon but my mama taught
me ya don't talk 'bout that.
Anyways we done close to a week down at Padre. Funny thing 'bout
Padre, folks down there can always tell a rancher kickin' back. Second
year in a row them folks just listened & listened on yarns 'bout the
Lazy E. Guess ocean folks crave land & ranchers crave the shore. Least
me & the Mrs. do.
Well one day I was doin' a walk. Nothin' special; just a walk to clear
my head. I did one every day cuz my head needs lots of clearin'. Mrs.
says my hard drive needs cleanin', whaever that means.
Well, I got an idea whilst I was walkin'. Why waste good money on them
tacky souvenirs? So I started writin' in the sand. Just lil ole
things to people I cared 'bout. Figured puttin' it in the sand was
just right. Folks on the beach could read it & know there was someone
special miles & miles away. The good Lord would see it & spread the
word. And when the Lord was done He'd wipe it out in His good time.
And I knowed He would pass the word to the folks I loved that I was
thinkin' 'bout 'em.
Don't ya know folks on the beach took a likin' to writin' messages in
the sand! Spanish, English, it didn't matter.
Guess sometimes folks just need to remember ain't nothin' better than
thinkin' 'bout folks. Dollars are good but a simple thought goes a
long way.
Anyways, that's what me & the Mrs. done.
Wyatt (but y'all can call me EDog)