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On
Ever� year bout this time, sumthin' special happens
out here in the high lonesome country. The lady up
at the big house tells the foreman that she has a
chore for the hands on
Thursday morning bright and early.
Well most times this is some dammed thing that is
just plumb insultin� to a cowhand, like spading
up the garden, or fixin� up the fence round the
house where that bull went through last month.
This little chore is differ�nt though and the
hands gather at the back door right after breakfast
and there ain�t any gripin� about this one.
The lady gives ever� hand there a basket or a
bundle all wrapped up plumb fancy and gives him
instructions on where it is to go.
Man, you ought to get a whiff of some of them
parcels, smells so good that it makes your mouth
water. Gets right temptin' it does, but the last
word that lady sed afore them boys rode out is
ringin� in their ears. "You fellers stay out of
them bundles you hear? Or I�ll have your hides
stretched out on the wall of the barn!!!", she
hollered in a threathenin� manner laced with a
grin as wide as the barn door.
The men busted out of that yard with them bundles
tied on the backs of saddles or looped around a
saddle horn, at a high lope and with a yell that
could be heard for a mile.
Now I have never for the life of me figgered out
how them wimmen do it, but them fellers ride for
the borders of the ranch in ever� direction to
where it butts up agin the neighbor�s fence line.
Now this is the part I never got ciphered out,
when he gits there, there will be a rider comin�
from the other direction just as sure as
cactus has got stickers.
That other outfit�s headquarters might be 20 miles
away, but there comes a rider just sure as shootin�
and he�s got a basket or a bundle tied on his pony too.
Well, them fellers meet there on the fence line.
Mebbe they know each other or have rid together at
one time or another over the years.
Don�t really matter, they shake hands
and give a "Howdy".
Them fellers will throw a leg up over the saddle horn,
mebbe smoke a "roll your own" and jest mebbe, one of
them will have a flask in their saddle bag.
Them fellers will "jaw" a little and find out all
the latest news there is to tell, but they don�t
stay long. Another nip out of that jug and a
"See ya down the trail!"
and they are back on the way home.
Now one other thing has happened while this was
goin� on. Them fellers has traded them parcels
they was a carryin� on their horses and there
is new enticing aromas to be smelled.
Round about noon all them hands is back, and has
unsaddled their ponies and fed them an extra
handful of grain and is headed for the cookhouse.
They present the lady with the things they have
brought and go wash up and put on their other shirt
and levi�s and slick back their hair.
They all gather there in the cook house and there
on the table is the dammest collection of goodies
you could ever imagine.
There is rolls and biscuits, and canned berry
jellies and jams, and pies and cakes and there
just ain�t no end to it.
Now mebbe them pies and cakes is a little mashed
from the jostlin' on the trip home but it don�t
make any difference. This here is such a special
day that a little thing like that ain�t even noticed.
Bout that time the Boss�s lady brings in the biggest
ol turkey you have ever seen and sez
"Sit down boys, chow�s on!!!"
Well she don�t have to repeat it,
I can tell you for plumb certain.
She sets the turkey down in the
center of the table and sez,
"Shall we thank the Big Boss for this spread?"
Well sir, for about the only time that year that
they feel like they really got a home,
them fellers bow their heads and listen to that
lady as she offers thanks for all that has happened
to all of them in the last year.
When she says Amen, them boys nod their heads and say
their Amens with more sincerity than anyone sittin�
in a church with a bell and stained glass winders.
Then she sez, "Dig in boys, it�s Thanksgiving!!!"
Well friends, that is how they did it in the old days.
Things has changed with the times, but the
feelings and the kindness of the season are the same.
So from our outfit to yours,
We are sending a bundle of best wishes for
Thanksgiving and the coming holiday season.
Seeya down the trail!
Iggy and Itchy (Chip & Linda)
"Twink's Ink" September 18 1999 � Chip Harding
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