In case you’re like me and rather numb with cold, as well as what’s happening in the political arena, maybe a dose of nonsense from Windy Wilson – resident word-scrambler at the Mule Barn Truck Stop – will bring a smile. Windy wouldn’t call it nonsense. He’s convinced that his words make sense. You be the judge.
It helps to have a cat on your lap when it’s this cold. I think it’s cute the way she wraps herself in her tail and pushes her face into the wrap I’m wearing over a sweater and turtleneck. The best thing about a furry warm up blanket is it doesn’t need an electrical socket to work. 🙂 Her name is Lily.
Okay, here’s Slim Randles with his story featuring Windy. Enjoy!
“When you been maturinatin’ ‘long as I have, they’s a few ultimatum facts about life that jest can’t be ignored,”
With that, our favorite old-time camp cook, mule packer and occasional predictor of things that haven’t happened yet, Windy Wilson, stirred the sugar in his coffee and looked at the rest of us. Wisely. Well, as wisely as old Windy ever gets.
We knew we were in for another dose of campfire education, even if it’s totally wrong. We smiled. Some people need cable TV to find this kind of fun.
“Like them measurementals we use when we’re cookin’, he said. “If you look in them recipe books, they slam a buncha measurementals on ya that you never heard of and no one to convert them into plain American, like we speak here.”
“You jest take in there them bakin’ recipes,” he said. “Cups a this, then you gotta shift them so they don’t stick together with stuff you already tossed in a bowl … like a dramblin’ of this or a sticker of butter. You ever see that stuff? How in the everlastin’ hoot owl drumsticks they spect us, ‘way over here in the United States of Our Country to figger that out?
He sipped and stirred and looked up at us in that same way old Sam Elliott does when he finds a greenhorn he wants to set straight.
“Let’s figger out real cowboy measurements and use ‘em. That’s what I say.”
“Like which ones, Windy?
“Why, Doc, didya know there are them caf-ma terial ladies all over the place don’t know what a herman is? Truth. A herman, as all of us know, is a cubic fistful.
Jest right handy fer makin’ biscuits in a Dutch oven. Set ‘er on that campfire and let ‘er go! Gits too hot? Hey, jest pull ‘er back a mite ‘til she’s settin’ more in the coals out where the state line would be if campfires had states.”
Our resident working cowboy, Steve, got up to pay his bill and leave.
“Don’t run off, Steve,” said Windy, “ was jest ‘bout to start ‘luminatin’ on stuff like gloogles, gurgles, bellyache triggers, slushes and nips.”
“Next time, I guess,” Steve said over his shoulder as he headed out the door for his getaway pickup truck.
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Brought to you by that marvelous book Home Country on Amazon.com
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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.
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That’s all from me for today folks. I hope your week starts off well. Be safe. Be happy. Be warm.
“Be yourself. Everybody else is taken.” Oscar Wilde