Saturday, April 30, 2022

Careful in your considerations!?

 Watch me now!

From here to somewhere---in a flash...Zoom!

You can come aboard---or, not...Just don't stand on the tracks!

Tonight---I fly the cosmos...on a Magic-Unicorn! Wanna come?

See you in the Fantasy!---If?...You dare! I'll be there! For sure!

Amen!

Friday, April 29, 2022

A long journey from here to anywhere...

 It's quite a journey! Thanks! Mom!

Yea! It's a long way! But, Love! prevails! Thank you!

Freedom! is the refuge!---Family! Is everything!...Faith! is Salvation!

Perfect! Mom! Great example! Beautiful!-mentor! Thanks! Mom!

Happy Mother's Day!

Amen!

Thursday, April 28, 2022

Perfect-Mother! Amen!

 Jesus' Mother! Mary! Amen!

As a child I viewed Mary and saw my Perfect!-Mom!

Thanks! Mom! For all of it and everything! Class-act!

Amen!

Wednesday, April 27, 2022

Mother's Day prelude:

 Class-act! Mom!---always...1st Class!


Beautiful1 Intelligent! Caring! Perfect!

Mom: Knows how to "fix" anything and everything!

Immaculate housekeeper! Gourmet culinary-skills!

Magic! An eternal supply of clean clothes! Time---always!

Thanks Mom! For the best example ever! Perfection!

Everything you do---always and forever...Class-act!...1st Class!

Love you! Mom!


Amen!

Tuesday, April 26, 2022

In Honor of Mother's Day!

Mother's Day is coming!  Thanks! Mom!

What a Great Honor to be blessed to be a Mother!

What a Greater Honor to have a Perfect Mother!

Amen!

Monday, April 25, 2022

End-of-term!

 School's out! Yea!

Just a week or two left---and...Summer-Vacation!

College girls are one (1) year ahead of schedule! Wow!

They are so smart! Talented! Beautiful! Perfect!

They are planning their summer "free" time! Good!

We plan to spend some Pleasure-time with each of them.

They are doing "interns"---Hmm!...Sure is different!?

Success awaits! They already enjoy Huge success! Amen!

School's out! Yea!

Amen!


Sunday, April 24, 2022

Sunday humor!

 Humor on a Sunday!? Why not!?

 

That “Fred”! Old guy! Ever hear of Methuselah?

Gets all the female attention over to the home!

No-looks! –money! –personality! –charm! Hmm!?

He’s notin’ like me! So? Just how does he do it?

 

I asked Fred! Dumb idea! But, I asked. (Stupid!)

 

“Well,” he croaked in his Bill Clinton husky voice,

(that accent has to be practiced(?)), “I just tell ’em

what they want to hear…'Good looks! Nice teeth!

Personality! Good singing voice! Nice body!'”

 

He smiled, like I should believe that garbage! I

been using those lines for years! No luck!?

Maybe it’s all in the delivery!? Nah!

 

Come on! Fred! I’m no easy mark. Truth!?

 

“Okay! I learned from courting and catching my

first wife, Thelma! Oh! God! But, I was young

and dumb, I reckon. Told her I owned the farm

where I really only rented a room in the barn loft.

She left after 3 days; didn’t like the aroma---

didn’t care for the 4-legged critters, either. Amen

 

“Told the next one I owned that farm and the one

next door. Bam! Married! 2 days! Gone! Hmm!?

 

“By number 7 I owned all of Northern Illinois! Yes! Sir!

 

“I tried to give Chicago to China but they declined, ‘Too corrupt!’

 

“I had to stop owning land at the ‘Peoples’ Republic of Wisconsin

border; you see, my brother owns that hunk-of-lie! Out of

Professional-courtesy I couldn’t go south, either…?

 

“Another brother?” I inquired. “Nah! My daddy owns Kentucky!”

 

“Well!” I allowed. “There’s Arkansas?” (I thought I had him?)

 

“Uh! Un! Little Abner and his cousin, Daisy May, claim it.

“That Daisy! She’s H – O – T! I ought to talk to ‘cousin’ Daisy!”

 

That Fred! Biggest liar in 4 states! Well! Tied for “Biggest”! Anyway!


Ole Fred! He sure knows how to trick the geriatric "Hotties"!?


Careful! Grannies!

Saturday, April 23, 2022

Bored! Lonely! & Afraid!

 Choice!

Pandemic!?---No!...A self-inflicted epidemic!

So sad!? Life is a personal "choice"!

"Choose" wisely! You will live that "choice"!

I pray thee "Peace"! I wish thee "Love"!

Amen!

Friday, April 22, 2022

Another day! Another chance!

Maybe!

Dawn! One more chance to do some "Good"! 

I'll do my very best! As always!---Yes!... I will!

Amen!

Thursday, April 21, 2022

Sunshine gold! (Part 2 of 2)

 Bring me home to Rocky Mountain heights so that I might slide

the July-snow releasing that 4 year-old buried just beneath the

adult surface where ’ere I truly do and always have and will

forever reside in Awesome want of simple-humble Truth-Peace!

Oh! Me beauty Cripple Creek! Where mountain man has gopher-

tunneled a lust for golden ore and silver strike to rival crater-moon.

 

Sweet bow a Fiddle Sunshine Gold  bring forth a tear as four-taught

Music-note strings echo sweet a song-of-lyric-words ever more true

pronounced upon the clearness air a song reality to stir me heart and

soar me spirit Wild upon yon escarpment sentinel above yon green-

blue ocean cadenced march of white foam crest-wave trough subtle

race silent-solace Love to rendezvous yonder white-sand beach. Amen!

 

Dance-choreograph me heart-song in flute notes join fiddle melody in

harmony with Live! Love! Laugh! a Faith Family! Freedom! mantra!

 

Amen! Amen!--- Again…Amen!

Wednesday, April 20, 2022

Sunshine gold! (Part 1 of 2)

 Fiddle Sunshine Gold!

(a Spirit-tune for adventure-time)

 

Dance yon Spirit music in me heart; choreograph some

adventure-Wild in that vacant space between any notes

where holy-sacred events unfold like cascade babbles on

a mountain stream caressing boulder-stones to sweet hum

a whisper-song upon my ears attentive and appreciative

discerning northern-lights amiss among those blue-white

midnight diamond sparkle-glows serenading a black-abyss

to usher Sweetness-dawn’s first pink-blush calling the day.

 

  Surf-tag with that mighty Pacific-blue in warm-comfort sun

to chase thoughts-vacant yet sustain precious-Hope towards

a manifest of some reality yonder just beyond the pale that

even I might find an echo-avenue to dare-dream of water wide

beyond the shores wherever rain might one day fall or simply

dampen a cloud-concern to listen close the lightning effort

raising a thunder-crescendo rattle-roll announcing---Wonder!

 

On some emerald swale above the mist sweet-Play thy flute to

Praise! Honor! Glory! God in a gentle Whisper-wind to fly a

corridor ascend the summit high in struggle to reach some top

on high then soft victory the pinnacle in pause life purple bloom

upon yon lilac-bush pleasant in its reticence to then descend

an eastern front-range foraging a prairie golden flight in total

ecstasy to tease the mighty rivers meander-course prevail Wild!

(Part 2of 2 Tomorrow)

Tuesday, April 19, 2022

"Tally! Ho!"

 “Tally Ho!?”

(a “material” lamented song)


Lord! I’m coming! Lord! I’ll be right there!

What have I done? Have I ever been anywhere?

A true “Success!?” I just can’t seem to care!

Faith! Family! Freedom! I honest pleasure share!

In some final end the serendipity of life plays fair!

Material count? Gone to nothing a definitive share!

 

I wonder “Where is the Peace?

Will evil hording ever cease?

 

Is the sacred “art-of-the-deal”

Just a legal obfuscation to steal?

 

Pile golden coins to tally high

Can a single eat the entire pie?

 

When will the storage be enough?

I can’t keep track of all my stuff!

 

One some day too soon it all must end?

Will I, at last, a copper penny spend?

 

Lord! I’m coming! Lord! I’ll be right there!

What have I done? Have I ever been anywhere?

A true “Success!?” I just can’t seem to care!

Faith! Family! Freedom! I honest pleasure share!

In some final end the serendipity of life plays fair!

Material count? Gone to nothing a definitive share!

 

Exemplar shared her sacred Love to any and all!

Never embraced “elite” to contemplate an evil fall!

 

Oh! Fragrant flower brilliant in a myriad color hue!

Loving-kind! Christian-generosity! To all she knew!

 

Gave her last morsel to a misery discarded precious child!

Upon her white soul Saints & Angels celestial-heaven smiled

 

Lord! I’m coming! Lord! I’ll be right there!

What have I done? Have I ever been anywhere?

A true “Success!?” I just can’t seem to care!

Faith! Family! Freedom! I honest pleasure share!

In some final end the serendipity of life plays fair!

Material count? Gone to nothing a definitive share! 

Amen!

Monday, April 18, 2022

Survival-instinct! (Part 8 of 8)

 Yellow lightning illuminations danced to the north of his tidy little encampment; he smelled rain on the air but the storm stayed well north of his location. He slept well, yet alert, through the night. Come dawn, the river was running rapidly from the overnight torrent further north but the camp was dry and fresh coffee brew filled the chill morning air with promised comfort warmth.

He checked the animals, lead the horse and mule to the river to drink a little and gave them each another handful of bunch grass careful not to overfeed them; Wolf got a hard biscuit and seemed thankful for the treat although one never knew just what the cur really thought. He was a fine companion on the trail but he didn’t cotton to humankind remaining isolated.

“When we hit ole Denver-town,” Buckskin spoke in a low tone to the animals although none seemed even remotely interested in what he had to say, “I’m gonna get a bath, a shave and the biggest steak with potatoes and gravy that I can find.

“Commander and Rufe will get three days at the livery, I’ll sell my furs and trade this silver cache for cash money. Wolf! I’ll give you the steak bone when I’m done with it.” He smiled.

When he had repacked the pannier and burdened Rufe with the supplies, he saddled and mounted Commander and headed north by several degrees east toward Denver and civilization; he should make the city lights by dusk, just in time for that hot bath, shave and steak dinner.

Once clear of the mountains and in the rolling swale of prairie past the front range he spied five Indians far to his east; probably a hunting party chasing “phantom-ghost” antelope.

By dark, with the animals snug and secure in the livery and having washed down a fine meal with “real” smooth whiskey, Buckskin slept on a feather mattress in a hotel room. Wolf melted into some rough brush just outside the livery stable. The man kept his Hawkin beside his bed and a six gun in his ready hand just under the woolen blanket covering.

“Careful, I am,” he thought, “out yonder in the ‘jungle’ among the many Wild critters; but, here in civilization?---I’m much more on-guard!...this is where the real Wild animals live!”

With that warning conviction of fact, Buckskin fell into half-sleep awaiting dawn adventure.

And when?---his last breath is drawn…here lies an Independent-Individual! A satiated spirit!

 

Amen!

The end

Sunday, April 17, 2022

Survival-instinct! (Part 7 of 8)

 The man’s other constant-companion, a muscular-cur, half-dog, half-wolf, moved ahead sniffing the air as he went; he would let his master know if anything was amiss. He had missed the Indian attacker being off chasing a rabbit. Buckskin kept a wary-eye on the dog while also remaining attentive to his surroundings. Carefully, and as quietly as possible, threading their way through the thick brush and tree trunks, they exited the willows onto a sandy shore littered with rounded-rocks from the mountains washed and polished by eons of rushing-water ice-cold from the run-off high up on the snow-packed peaks. The “beach” spanned some ten-feet before meeting the river-water. “Wolf”, the half-breed, was already chest deep in the fast-moving swirl of the cascading-river, lapping fresh snow-melt, rubbing his face in the froth, playing like an innocent-child.

Once the man had cleared the cover of the river-willows, he halted the steed, viewing the river, the far-bank, some thirty-feet across, and sniffing the air for any tell-tail scent of smoke. Satisfied that the trio was alone, nudging Billy forward; the horse stopped at the bank and drank.

Before stepping down from the saddle, Buckskin gave the area another careful look-see. Finally satisfied, the tall-man stepped down from the well-worn saddle pulling his Hawkins-rifle from the leather-scabbard; he checked the load, seeing that all was in working order for action.

Wolf had finished slaking his thirst and bounded into the river-roil like a wild “puppy”-dog, chasing Rainbow-trot absent any chance of ever catching one of the slippery fish; when Commander had slurped enough of the ice-melt, he raised his head to stand-sentinel; only then did Buckskin drink.

Between each swallow, the man swiveled his head to observe his surroundings, intently listening and watching. Once satisfied with the refreshment, the man carefully filled the canteen with crystal-liquid as keen eyes swept the perimeter of his venue and attentive ears caught every nuance of nature. Nothing seemed amiss; the dog and horse confirmed his security with their calm attitude. Complacent Rufe had slaked his thirst and merely stood and dozed.

Buckskin moved his entourage across the tiny stream to the far eastern shore. Commander didn’t particularly like the frigid water and danced a “crow-hop” cadence through the chill; Wolf relished in the cold “fun” and Rufe seemed not to even notice anything untoward.

Safely across, Buckskin rode downstream until he found a suitable campsite for the night. An indentation in the willows lining the river bank caused by some rather recent flood had dislodged about twenty of the soft wood trees and floated them away as the bank had been eaten out.

This little convenience provided good protection from view of any stranger’s possible view approaching from either up or down the river; the overhanging bank offered a “roof”, of sorts, should it rain or snow and a properly laid fire fronted with flat river rocks standing on edge to hide its flames and throwing warmth toward the rear of the earthen half-cave made for a good camp/ Buckskin had the animals hobbled and fed with bunch grass he had cut and gathered; his blackened coffee pot, dented and beaten from years of hard use, began to purr a steam-hum as the warming crystal river water began to boil. Hardtack and strong brew sufficed for supper fare.

(Part 8 of 8 Tomorrow---The conclusion))

 

Saturday, April 16, 2022

Happy Easter! Peace!

Easter Peace! Amen! (2022)

 

Happy Easter!

 

New-born pink-blush dawn invites “Son”- rise!

Jesus arisen triumphs even evil death! Surprise!

 

Begins God’s new covenant with heaven’s heir!

Redemption! Salvation! A holy-sacred celestial pair!

 

Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Celebrate!

How to return God’s Love? Do contemplate!

 

Humble self to offer Praise! Honor! Glory!

Appreciate life-gift! Live adventure-story!

 

Thank Thee! Lord!” A simple prayer thought

Delight in every blessing His crucifixion bought

 

Through Jesus’ sacrifice for (simple-humble) sinner me

Holy Spirit Grace! Ushers sacred Peace freely

 

With satiate-Spirit exalted value-virtue a-purpose live

Practice His Christian-generosity” to awesome give

 

I will send you who and what you need!Jesus trust!

His-word!  His-bond! All I need do is simply adjust!

 

Evil can never defeat His mankind-blessing myriad Good!

Holy Spirit Grace is waiting if simple I just humble could!

Heaven-reward awaits if in His Honor I simply would!

Too-easy! Now! Happy Easter! I know I sacred-should!

 

I Thank Thee! Lord! For Life! For Love! Special Blessings these!

My humble effort reply? Say many a “Thank you!” to any “Please!”

 

And---I strive to “appreciate”…each Love holy-nuance case

Me senses atuned to Life-detail emotion-devotion to embrace

 

So! Happy Easter! Welcome sacred-holy spring Peace!

Another day! A miracle! A chance! Advance life-lease!

 

Saints & Angels! Seraphim & Cherubim! are special as every day!

Happy Easter! Peace! God loves you! His child! I humble-pray!

 

Amen!

Friday, April 15, 2022

Survival-instinct! (Part 6 of 8)

 The Cheyenne of the plains and the Shoshone Indians of the red-sandstone cliffs of the north were a quiet-people, more settled in the civility of society and culture, satisfied with their life.

These tribes sported a more “European”-look with tall, lithe-bodies, handsome-faces with aquiline-noses, thin-lips, and overall slender-builds. Many a white man had taken these women as squaws; Buckskin had wintered with both the Cheyenne and Shoshone over the years.

He had also wintered with the Blackfeet and Crow, among others; the women of these tribes were “course” with large-features and a “bull-in-a-china-shop” lack-of-class born of poor-breeding, but, when the north-wind howled its chill against a lodge-wall in the dark-of-night, they made for “warm”-comfort---and, no small consolation…these maidens could really…Cook!

One late spring found Buck along a mountain river dammed by numerous beaver; he set out to decimate their over-populated society, thus earning a tidy profit for the pelts when he got to Denver. For several weeks, he worked his traps, soon having wrangled many of the inhabitants.

No true-conservationist annihilates his assets, always leaving some-seed for next-year. Greed had no room in civilized-society, even, and, especially for those inclined to “live-off-the-land”.

Having stretched and cured nearly a hundred-hides, Buckskin packed his gear, pelts and meager-belongings to mosey-down Denver-way planning to take his time, see the country, do a bit of antelope-hunting, catch the odd trout, or two and meet up with Rendezvous in mid-summer.

Ever-alert, Buckskin sharpened his survival-acumen to peak-awareness; late the afternoon previous, he had spied tracks of five un-shod ponies at a river crossing; they were a good half-a-day ahead of him; it could have been just a hunting-party, but it paid dividends to be cautious.

(Part 7 of 8 Tomorow)

Thursday, April 14, 2022

Survival-instinct! (Part 5 of 8)

 Native-Indian tribes nurtured a society of personalities diverse as was the physical appearance of the nomads; some were “friendly” to the interloper “white”-man; others showed a healthy-skepticism; some avoided any contact with the “white”-eyes. Some hated him outright!

Ogallala-Sioux openly and habitually warred with settlers and raided wagon-trains offering little compassion for women and children captured or outright killed in the altercations; the Sioux were not of a “prisoner-of-war” persuasion. Comanche Indians liked to steal horses from their red-brother enemies and especially the newly arrived hated “blue-bellies” of the United States Cavalry; it was rumored around myriad campfires, Indian and white, that these thieves could slip into camp like grey-wraiths in the midnight-dark, walk among the sleeping inhabitants, take anything they wanted, at their leisure, and get away without a sound; seemed they “carried” the horses away on silent-clouds. Such fantasy-“entertainment” tales delighted both red-man and white audiences, alike! In any legend resides a fair-modicum of truth!

Navajos of the southwest seemed mostly tranquil; they would fight, but, preferred Peace!

Mescalero Apache stretches across the southwest from Texas to the Llano Estacada and down into old-Mexico eventually into Arizona-Territory; they hated all-people, regardless of color. Often, these rapscallions fought just for the pure-pleasure of breaking the boredom-of-Peace. They stole from neighboring tribes; occasionally, an Apache would slay another member of his own tribe just to acquire the other’s horses or weapons or wives; even brother against brother!

Sturdy-built of muscular-short stature, they were pernicious-adversaries who would die, rather than yield or quit the altercation. They could run all-day, going without food or water for a week

(Part 6 of 8 Tomorrow).

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Survival-instinct! (Part 4 of 8)

 Ole Rufe had been with the man for several-years; he more than earned his keep and behaved “pretty”-well for a stubborn-critter born of independent-nature who could choose to be obnoxious. The animal had even once saved Buck’s-life! Literally! Aided by a little-training.

Buckskin had traipsed just a bit too far west out of New Mexico Territory one fine spring as he searched rivers in the southwest for any trace of gold or silver color; he had recovered a bit.

“Guess I sure-enough got the fever,” he sorely reminded himself, later. It had nearly cost him his life. Had it not been for the “little”-trick Buck had taught the mule, Rufe---Well?...Curtains!?

Mules had a reputation for being stubborn, but, also for being loyal and somewhat intelligent.

Buckskin had trained Rufe to respond to the master’s three quick-jerks on the lead-rope as the mule followed along behind the rider’s horse. Whenever Buck triggered the signal with a trio of instantaneous-pulls on the tether, ole-Rufe brayed an alarm and bucked, kicking-out with both hind-legs. Such kick is not anything one ever wanted to experience; could take a head clean-off.

Buck practiced the “trick” with ole Rufe every so-often, just to keep the “knot-head” aware.

The training paid off one fine evening, unexpectedly.

In the southwest desert everything is “washed-out” as far as color goes save the late winter into early spring when a pale “yellow” permeates the landscape. That happenstance characteristic of the desert personality, along with Rufe’s “trick” and Indians’ love of “red” color, saved Buckskin’s life.

He noticed a swatch of “red” among the grey dust and bleached-out rocks of the desert; Apaches had a distinct attraction to the color “red”. The cloth was only an inch long but stood out in the bland surroundings like a lightning bolt on a dark night.

The Indian was laying in-wait covered in dust and concealed behind a low rock ready to ambush the “white-eyes”; a great plan and “deadly” save the telltale “red” patch give-away.

Buckskin spied the assailant and rode on by watching in his peripheral vison. When Rufe cleared the hiding Indian, the savage jumped from his hiding place and fell in behind the mule making ready his attack.

Buckskin jerked the lead rope three quick tugs and Rufe brayed and kicked out with his rear legs.

Wham! “Bye! Bye!” Would-be ambusher!

Buckskin was off his mount and on the miscreant in a flash with knife in hand to finish the job; he could have easily shot the attacker but that would have been a wasted bullet and powder, and, too, a firearm report could carry up to twenty miles on calm evening air in the desert; no point announcing his presence to the Indians’ friends or other interlopers. Best keep caution on one’s side.

Sure enough, the dead Indian had a piece of red cloth tied in his dirty hair; it had been his undoing.

Native-Indian tribes nurtured a society of personalities diverse as was the physical appearance of the nomads; some were “friendly” to the interloper “white”-man; others showed a healthy-skepticism; some avoided any contact with the “white”-eyes. Some hated him outright!

Ogallala-Sioux openly and habitually warred with settlers and raided wagon-trains offering little compassion for women and children captured or outright killed in the altercations; the Sioux were not of a “prisoner-of-war” persuasion. Comanche-Indians liked to steal horses from their red-brother enemies and especially the newly-arrived hated “blue-bellies” of the United States Cavalry; it was rumored around myriad campfires, Indian and white, that these thieves could slip into camp like grey-wraiths in the midnight-dark, walk among the sleeping inhabitants, take anything they wanted, at their leisure, and get away without a sound; seemed they “carried” the horses away on silent-clouds. Such fantasy-“entertainment” tales delighted both red-man and white audiences, alike! In any legend resides a fair-modicum of truth!

Navajos of the southwest seemed mostly tranquil; they would fight, but, preferred Peace!

Mescalero Apache stretches across the southwest from Texas to the Llano Estacada and down into old-Mexico eventually into Arizona-Territory; theyhated all-people, regardless of color. Often, these rapscallions fought just for the pure-pleasure of breaking the boredom-of-Peace. They stole from neighboring tribes; occasionally, an Apache would slay another member of his own tribe just to acquire the other’s horses or weapons or wives; even brother against brother!
Sturdy-built of muscular-short stature, they were pernicious-adversaries who would die, rather than yield or quit the altercation. They could run all-day, going without food or water for a week.

(Part 5 of 8 Tomorrow)
 

Tuesday, April 12, 2022

Survival-instinct! (Part 3 of 8)

 He missed not the slightest movement. A “camp-robber” Jay hung tenaciously to a stout-stub of what had once been a willow branch on the far-side of the tree-line nearest the river; a “busy”-beaver towing a large branch to reinforce his dam spied the interloper at the same instant the man’s vision caught sight of the builder, Mr.-“Beaver” quickly dropped his burden and gave the animal’s trademark “slap”-of-the-tail as it dove beneath the water for safety causing the human to stifle a laugh at the antics; a Rainbow-trout flashed reddish-hues in an instant as it jumped, breaking the water-surface feeding on mid-summer May-flies; overhead, an eagle sailed-noiselessly; half-a-mile north, five mule-deer broke-brush on the opposite side of the river. Though he saw them for only several-seconds before they disappeared back into the thick-stand of willows, he did not discern any cause for their obvious-alarm; could have been a cougar.

Buckskin sat quiet for a full five-minutes, listening, searching, smelling, tasting the air; he rolled a smoke, noting that his tobacco was running low; need to restock, next civilization he came upon. Living off the land had its distinct advantages; it also made absent-comforts obvious.

A slight-lull in the wind gave him a potent-whiff of his own-odor. Whew! He needed to wash his clothes---and…his putrid-body also. That dancehall-gal, Cherise, down ole Denver-way would certainly object! He rubbed his jaw; going to require a shave, too---and…a hair-trimming!

Buckskin surveyed the thick-stand of trees before him, searching for the easiest-access to get through to the river-bank before him. Satisfied that all was as it should be in his immediate-world, he gave a very slight nudge with his heels to the side of Billy who responded-naturally, carefully stepping forward. The lead-rope tightened in his left hand as ole-Rufe, his pack-mule, tethered six feet behind his own mount came forward to trail directly behind Billy; going through the thick stand of willows could cause trouble if Rufe did not follow closely.

The sturdy-mule carried a heavy load of beaver, deer, and antelope pelts along with one black bear hide. In the pannier on Rufe’s-back was Buck’s rations, powder and balls and a bit of silver.

(Part 4 of 8 Tomorrow)

Monday, April 11, 2022

Survival-instinct! (Part 2 of 8)

 Life is “easy”---Today!…“Too”-easy!?---But…once!?

 Silver-sparkle blue-white diamonds glistened like nighttime pinpoints-of-starlight on a black-abyss canvass-canopy at midnight intermittently-dancing between the swaying branches heavy with myriad green-leaves of summer, frothy ripple-crests of a cascading-river reflecting an alabaster-pale full-moon illumination.

On the late day-of-afternoon prior at a mountain-altitude of 7,500-ft., a determined-chill cut the thin-air in spite of clear-skies sporting a bright yellow-sun warm upon the face but lending no relief from the bite-of-elevation.

A plethora of river-willow stretched from the distant northeast-horizon to disappear behind far hills to the north; a stiff mountain-breeze danced the trunks twisting and turning fresh leaves.

Rolling-plains drifted east and west from the river-basin bordering either-side of the tributary; building-clouds to the west threatened rain, probably within the next few hours ushering sunset.

A slight-sniff of the crisp-air revealed an ever-do-slight hint of a heaviness toward-humidity; years of mountain-living experience had taught Buckskin to not only hone his senses, but, to trust-them. Twenty-years of survival in a hostile-harsh environment depended on a savvy-understanding; he had well-earned his reputation as a “Mountain-man” of the highest-order.

Sitting-astride his mountain-bred cayuse, Commander, a sorrel-stallion gained in a poker game up Bozeman-way some three-winters ago from a gambler who drank too much and made wild-bets, the man surveyed the awesome-scene laid before him. Still some thirty feet from the willow-stand, Buckskin listened-intently while his eyes searched the surroundings for anything untoward; each of his acute-senses processing myriad bits of information, simultaneously.

(Part 3 of 8 Tomorrow)

Sunday, April 10, 2022

Survival-instinct! (Part 1 of 8)

 Survival-instinct!?---Necessary!?...Gone!?

 

 

An ancient-discovery of “fire”, accidental (like natural-lightning) or

a fortuitous-purposed accomplishment enhanced “life” positively.

 

From a “survival-instinct” perspective, mankind has employed its

“Genius” over millennia to better “life” for the masses-collective.

 

In the “modern”-era, where life is “easy”, and, in myriad-consideration,

“cheap”, to wit: (mass-murder, abortion, euthanasia…), the “survival-

instinct” has become single-focused, that is, completely self-centered

total-selfishness absent any generous-consideration of any-other people.

 

In a yesteryear-space of “Independent-Individual” conclusions which

built this---“Greatest-of-all-countries”…our United States of America!

We celebrate that “Christian-Generosity” worthy-determination! Amen!

 (Part 2 of 8 Tomorrow)

Saturday, April 9, 2022

Independent-Individual! (Part 2 of 2)

 Jefferson! Jackson! Roosevelt!-(Teddy) JFK! And, Ronald Reagan! Hmm! Why these five?

Each of these “real” men understood the “mandated-obligations” imposed upon them by the U.S. Constitution: 1) Uphold the Constitution; 2) Protect the people! That “is” the President’s job! The “5” revered the Constitution and “Loved” the country First…and ruled accordingly!

My writing makes sacred my honored-mantra “Trinity” of: Faith! Family! Freedom!

“Heroes” are as common and myriad among us as are Saints & Angels! Jesus and His angel-band, 12-apostles, Santa Claus, countless men and women who make America-great! And---You!

In my (simple-humble) opinion: Only a selfless Independent-Individual like “Santa Claus” makes the grade. To horde “material”-stuff and indulge “self” totally, to the exclusion of any other person or “good” is an overt sign of weakness, usually a blatant confession of an evil-“bully”. And---there is “no”-room in civil society…for “bullies! Like any other evil-“cancer”---it needs to be…totally-eliminated immediately with extreme-prejudice. Amen! To that! Amen!

Many-people in American-culture/society share a common affliction: Bored! Lonely! Afraid!

So?---How does one escape that “trio”-trap? Simple!...I just choose not to participate!

Life is “Grand”! Nothing like it that I know of! The Joy! Indeed! Is in the journey! Amen!

The end

If you like writings about Faith! Family! & Freedom!

and the Independent-Individual! Check out my "27"

offerings on Amazon books; search Carl Schuler, author

 

A couple of considerations to contemplate on your-journey:

Live! Love! Laugh! Focus-contemplate!

Vigilant-be! No one’s future is ever---late!

And---

Faith! Family! Freedom! Might just be all there really---Is!

In one eternal-instant the only mercy blessing will be…His!

 

Amen!

 

The Independent-Individual (I-I) founded this great nation; sustains it; maintains it!

The (I-I) respects the U.S. Constitution! Revers it! Loves it! Worships it! It is sacred!

Celebrate the Independent-Individual! They are actual-heroes! “There” when needed!

Amen!

Friday, April 8, 2022

Independent-Individual! (Part 1 of 2)

 Independent-Individual

 

Reckon so---I never was much of a “joiner”…liked my own company; for the most-part.

As a child, my “Heroes” were fictional characters who lived somewhere within the mesmerizing-magic emanating from the inside of the black and white T.V. Dumb-kid!? Yeah! I reckon that’s true enough. Strong! Smart! Tough! Independent-Individuals! Fighting the injustices of the “bad”-guys (and, winning!). Truth! Justice and the American-way! Oh! Yeah!

Played a little baseball on a kid’s league named after some “older”-man name of George Khoury; found I loved the simplicity of the game; even had a penchant for “pitching”. Took some “walks”, hit some singles, several doubles, maybe, a couple of triples---and…perhaps? One homer! At 12, I got real lucky---pitched in the IL-MO All-star game…in Busch Stadium! Wow!

But, boy! Was I ever good---at…striking-out! I gave it the old college try---at 10 years old!

And, to confound my “maturing”-process, the movies of the 50’s and 60’s portrayed the “Good”-guys as wearing white-hats while the “bad”-guys wore black---and…the “Good”-guys always won! My childhood heroes: Superman & The Lone Ranger! Ah! The “Good”-ole days!

To make my point about the Perfection of the Independent-Individual might best be exemplified with my considered-perception of our country’s Five Great-Presidents!

(Part 2 of 2 Tomorrow)