I don’t know who painted that charming scene with the cats and the witch and the glorious colors. Neither did the friend who sent me the image, so if any of you know who the artist is, please do share.
I do know the artist who colored the Happy Halloween picture. It’s one I did a few years ago, and I’ve tried my best to keep intact so I can put it on my refrigerator every October. Not much else happens in the way of decorating for Halloween around my house, but that’s okay. It’s just me and the cats and dog, and none of the animals care what day it is as long as I dutifully bring dinner on time. 🙂
It will be a quiet evening for me as kids have not come trick or treating in my neighborhood since I moved here, but I will wear my Halloween socks. Will you have a busy night?
Now here’s a guestpost from my friend Slim Randles. This one has nothing to do with Halloween, but it is too much fun to pass up. Enjoy!
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Steve was out in the Mule Barn parking lot the other day, tightening something with his wrenches under the hood of his pickup truck. The rest of us stood around, looking wise, and sipping coffee.
“You sure it ain’t the solenoid?” said Bert.
“I don’t think they make them anymore,” said Doc.
“It’s usually the solenoid,” Bert said, with finality.
Out of self defense, Steve emerged from his cavern of wires and metal long enough to say, “Didn’t I see you have a goat now, Bert?”
Bert nodded. “That’s why I hate allergies.”
We waited. We stared.
“Well you see, Maizie’s allergic to cow’s milk, so we bought Ernestine for her.”
“And Ernestine is ….?”
“The goat … right. So what happens is somehow I have to milk Ernestine. Twice a day. We wanted to go overnight to the city last week. Ever try to find someone who will babysit and milk a goat?”
“I won’t do it,” said Dud.
“Neither will anyone else,” said Bert, sadly. “So we either stay home, or take the goat with us. Ever try to find a motel that takes goats?”
“Not recently,” Doc said.
“So we stayed home. Oh, it wouldn’t be so bad if she liked me…”
“Maizie?”
“Ernestine. See, she waits until I have her almost milked out, then she’ll stick her foot in the bucket and kick it all over me. The other day, I was standing in her pen and talking with Mrs. Gonzales next door, and Ernestine came running up behind me and ran right between my legs.”
“Did you fall?”
“Of course. And Mrs. Gonzales tried not to laugh, but it didn’t work.”
“Bert,” said Doc, “why don’t you just buy goat’s milk at the store?”
“Maizie says she needs it fresh, because it’s better. You guys ever notice how a goat has horns and cloven hooves?”
We nodded.
“I don’t think I need to add anything to that,” said Bert.
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If you enjoy reading the stories by Slim, do consider picking up a copy “Home Country: Drama, dreams and laughter from the American heartland” The book has many humorous stories about the guys at the Mule-Barn Truck Stop, as well as a few thoughtful pieces to mix it all up a bit.
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Check out all of Slim’s award-winning books at his Goodreads Page and in better bookstores and bunkhouses throughout the free world.
All of the posts here are from his syndicated column, Home Country that is read in hundreds of newspapers across the country. I am always happy to have him share his wit and wisdom here.
Slim Randles is a veteran newspaperman, hunting guide, cowboy and dog musher. He was a feature writer and columnist for The Anchorage Daily News for 10 years and guided hunters in the Alaska Range and the Talkeetna Mountains. A resident of New Mexico now for more than 30 years, Randles is the prize-winning author of a dozen books, and is host of two podcasts and a television program.