Dem Bones

Dem bones, dem bones gon-na walk a-roun'
Dem bones, dem bones gon-na walk a-roun'
Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk a-roun'
Oh hear the word of the Lord!

The above refrain was written by James Weldon Johnson and the lyrics are based on Ezekiel 37:1-14, where the prophet visits the Valley of Dry Bones and brings them to life by mentioning God's name.

The story of Ezekiel has special meaning for the ranch hand today. Seems a couple of dem neck bones done been walkin' roun' and mashin' a nerve like a shoat churning a mud hole.

My reader likely knows that aging ain't for sissies. Ya gotta cowboy up, grit your teeth, and just live your live regardless of the challenges.

In spite of being an old fat man, the ranch hand has mostly been doing that, til lately.

Nuff said bout that 'cept yours truly will trust a fancy sawbones today to slit his guzzle, fumble around on the back side, and use a belt sander on the offending calcium edifices.

Hell, six weeks I figger I'll be good as new ('cept for the old fat man part).

Anyway, offer a prayer if ya have a moment, and the ranch hand will return to ride the dusty blogging range at a future date.

(Hmmm, I bet I can cogitate some humdinger blogs out of this experience?)