One fine day, me and Daddy Gene was toolin' thru Ed Wisner's pecan orchid down below the Sinclair refinery and spied a racoon perched in a tree fork just invitin' attention.
Being properly armed, we set about dispatchin' that varmit to his eternal destiny via a .22 bullit.
The next "logical" question was what to do with our obviously enviable prize?
Fortification with yeast inspired adult beverage provided the answer: We was gonna bar-b-que that sucka!
Retiring to the ubiquitous Wright City homestead, we fired up the iron smoke machine with seasoned hickory (while "firing up" our neophyte souls with more liquid "courage".)
With careful eye (and dubious appetite), me and Dad nursed that puppy all dang day with gently applied sauce basting, judicious seasoning, and ample attention to the hickory embers (while nervously sucking on the aluminum cans?).
At some point, the (brave???) adventurous chefs realized that jus' poppin' can tops and eye-ballin' the dark smoke pit delicacy wasn't accomplishin' much in the way of meaningful culinary ingestion.
Bottom line....me and Dad each whacked off a chunk of that dee-lish dish and chewed...and chewed...and chewed...and...well, that cud just got bigger and bigger in our mouths as we cogitated on the origin of our cuisine.
Ain't no fairy tale ending here. We spit that stuff out, popped another Bud, and swore a blood oath to NEVER cross that bridge again.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Neither Love nor Money
Ya gotta love fall.
When the pre-dawn morn has a bit of "nip" in the temperature and the elm and spanish oak leaves start to blossom in a palette of varying hues...well the old fat boy's neck starts to swell, his fur thickens, and the thought of hot chile is never far away.
The autumnal equinox inevitably tilts ole mother earth on its axis in a manner that shifts the mercury to the lesser side along with our daylight hours.
Course the resident ranch bucks ain't read that on Wikipedia like your dumass blog writer so they just know that the acorns are falling from the sky like theater popcorn and them dang does are startin' to look pretty gosh-awful fancyful?????
Yep, the Tin Star venison herd is headed toward "rut" like a meteor shower in a small dark closet and the bell has clearly "RUNG" for the courtship dance to begin!
Ah to be young again and experience the exhilaration of teenage feminine pursuit....Oh hell nah, wouldn't live that life again fer love nor money?????
When the pre-dawn morn has a bit of "nip" in the temperature and the elm and spanish oak leaves start to blossom in a palette of varying hues...well the old fat boy's neck starts to swell, his fur thickens, and the thought of hot chile is never far away.
The autumnal equinox inevitably tilts ole mother earth on its axis in a manner that shifts the mercury to the lesser side along with our daylight hours.
Course the resident ranch bucks ain't read that on Wikipedia like your dumass blog writer so they just know that the acorns are falling from the sky like theater popcorn and them dang does are startin' to look pretty gosh-awful fancyful?????
Yep, the Tin Star venison herd is headed toward "rut" like a meteor shower in a small dark closet and the bell has clearly "RUNG" for the courtship dance to begin!
Ah to be young again and experience the exhilaration of teenage feminine pursuit....Oh hell nah, wouldn't live that life again fer love nor money?????
Saturday, October 27, 2012
The Young Lions
Your venerable ranch hand has been a life-long University of Texas football fan.
Ain't no rhyme or reason for it since he has fooled three institutions of higher learning (with no affiliation to UT) into feloniously awarding (degrees?) to his dumb butt, but the chubby one has always felt a kinship for the Longhorn Nation?
There's been good years over the last 50 or so with NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIPS and "not so good"... as in the last few....but ya gotta take the "good" with tha "bad"???
The "horns" started today with a 5-2 slate against them lowly kansas jayhawk suckas who had a 1-6 record???? A "cake walk" for sure????
In the last dang EIGHT seconds, the mighty UT Juggernaut pulled out a "W" to progress(???) to 6-2 after just squeezing out enuff points to oozle ahead????
So why does this feel like a loss to a Bevo Faithful Fan???
Psalm 34:10 tells us, "The young lions suffer want and hunger, but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing."
Let us pray that our young Longhorns are true believers that ask their Lord and Savior for Devine guidance for the remainder of our season?
Ain't no rhyme or reason for it since he has fooled three institutions of higher learning (with no affiliation to UT) into feloniously awarding (degrees?) to his dumb butt, but the chubby one has always felt a kinship for the Longhorn Nation?
There's been good years over the last 50 or so with NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIPS and "not so good"... as in the last few....but ya gotta take the "good" with tha "bad"???
The "horns" started today with a 5-2 slate against them lowly kansas jayhawk suckas who had a 1-6 record???? A "cake walk" for sure????
In the last dang EIGHT seconds, the mighty UT Juggernaut pulled out a "W" to progress(???) to 6-2 after just squeezing out enuff points to oozle ahead????
So why does this feel like a loss to a Bevo Faithful Fan???
Psalm 34:10 tells us, "The young lions suffer want and hunger, but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing."
Let us pray that our young Longhorns are true believers that ask their Lord and Savior for Devine guidance for the remainder of our season?
Monday, October 22, 2012
Proof of Manhood
The ole ranch hand and his beautiful bride recently hosted the First Annual Tin Star Ranch Chili Cook-Off.
After careful cogitation and reflection, your humble fat boy has decided on some chili cook-off "do's and don'ts" fer true Texas CHAMPIONS to foller:
1. Scorch up the ranch dirt road in a pickup truck and a cloud of dust....the bigger the better on both counts, especially them monster dually diesels with gargantuan brush guards in front.
2. There ain't no way, no how, to have too much duct tape or too much adult beverage (dometic only...none that dang imported stuff!) when chili cuisine is involved.
3. Pre-tasting snacks is good....Jack Daniels whiskey is the best "snack", especially if ya is lookin' to soften up the competition.
4. Always, ALWAYS prominently display an American and Texas flag to show true redneck patriotism (and never bring up taxes, the president, or the price of deer corn 'less ya want your hind end scorched off).
5. Dress is optional...especially fer the wimmen folk, but men must wear ragged boots with their jeans tucked in the top of them poo kickers, rodeo belt buckles, and tee shirts and hats with logos of beer, cars, sports teams, or trophy buck deer. Facial hair is optional, but not with encrusted chili after having passed out with your face in a bowl of Texas Red.
6. Braggin' on your chili masterpiece is pre-judging mandatory conduct...victory dances after winning are frowned on, especially if you are too drunk to know you were not really the winner?
7. Tellin' hunting, fishing, and other lies at a cook-off should be an Olympic sport...and the first liar never has a chance.
8. And last, but not least, actually ingesting any of that greasy stuff is absolutely NOT a prerequisite for anything. Just showin' up and listening to all the BS of your kinfolk is proof enuff of manhood!
After careful cogitation and reflection, your humble fat boy has decided on some chili cook-off "do's and don'ts" fer true Texas CHAMPIONS to foller:
1. Scorch up the ranch dirt road in a pickup truck and a cloud of dust....the bigger the better on both counts, especially them monster dually diesels with gargantuan brush guards in front.
2. There ain't no way, no how, to have too much duct tape or too much adult beverage (dometic only...none that dang imported stuff!) when chili cuisine is involved.
3. Pre-tasting snacks is good....Jack Daniels whiskey is the best "snack", especially if ya is lookin' to soften up the competition.
4. Always, ALWAYS prominently display an American and Texas flag to show true redneck patriotism (and never bring up taxes, the president, or the price of deer corn 'less ya want your hind end scorched off).
5. Dress is optional...especially fer the wimmen folk, but men must wear ragged boots with their jeans tucked in the top of them poo kickers, rodeo belt buckles, and tee shirts and hats with logos of beer, cars, sports teams, or trophy buck deer. Facial hair is optional, but not with encrusted chili after having passed out with your face in a bowl of Texas Red.
6. Braggin' on your chili masterpiece is pre-judging mandatory conduct...victory dances after winning are frowned on, especially if you are too drunk to know you were not really the winner?
7. Tellin' hunting, fishing, and other lies at a cook-off should be an Olympic sport...and the first liar never has a chance.
8. And last, but not least, actually ingesting any of that greasy stuff is absolutely NOT a prerequisite for anything. Just showin' up and listening to all the BS of your kinfolk is proof enuff of manhood!
Friday, October 19, 2012
Similarities
The two spike bucks dramatically walked onto the stage from opposite sides of the back pasture. Youthful in years, genetically deprived of forked horns, but with obvious false male pride as to their place in nature.
In constrast, the two year old doe demurely meandered beneath the acorn laden oaks of the Tin Star Ranch busily preparing simultaneously for winter and the inevitable conception of her next fawn.
Survival of the fittest dictates that only the strong may create progeny. Accordingly, the battle to come would surely tilt fate in one manner or the other.
Spying one another, the combatants jauntingly pranced about in visual displays of their supposed prowess...to equally intimidate their opponent while wooing the potential mate (who continued to munch protein with complete disinterest).
In spite of their diminuitive headwear, the would-be suitors met face to face for the initiative staring match.
Next came pawing at the ground in the manner of bullring toros psyching to banish the toreador.
Without warning, both charged at full tilt, simultaneouly locking potentially impaling spikes while furiously churning their legs in a symphonic choreographed dance of desire.
....and they repeated their gentically programmed masculine machismo until the object of their "affection" silently retreated into the nearby brush.
Living on the ranch has a lot of perks, but ya gotta shake your head at times regarding the similarities between males of all species?
In constrast, the two year old doe demurely meandered beneath the acorn laden oaks of the Tin Star Ranch busily preparing simultaneously for winter and the inevitable conception of her next fawn.
Survival of the fittest dictates that only the strong may create progeny. Accordingly, the battle to come would surely tilt fate in one manner or the other.
Spying one another, the combatants jauntingly pranced about in visual displays of their supposed prowess...to equally intimidate their opponent while wooing the potential mate (who continued to munch protein with complete disinterest).
In spite of their diminuitive headwear, the would-be suitors met face to face for the initiative staring match.
Next came pawing at the ground in the manner of bullring toros psyching to banish the toreador.
Without warning, both charged at full tilt, simultaneouly locking potentially impaling spikes while furiously churning their legs in a symphonic choreographed dance of desire.
....and they repeated their gentically programmed masculine machismo until the object of their "affection" silently retreated into the nearby brush.
Living on the ranch has a lot of perks, but ya gotta shake your head at times regarding the similarities between males of all species?
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Spuddin'
The ole fat boy spent four hours on his Miller 140 wire welder today spuddin' together a project for a friend.
Gotta say there ain't nuthin like doing something that so totally absorbs your interest that your forget everything else in the world exists.
Weren't nuthin fancy. Was not done in an A-1 professional manner. But...dang it's a hoot to take a pile of steel, do a dab of fabrication, and "stick" it together in a manner that is a meaningful end result.
Wouldn't it be cool if every job we have ever done in our lives would meet those simple criteria: fun, interesting, meaningful?
Gotta say there ain't nuthin like doing something that so totally absorbs your interest that your forget everything else in the world exists.
Weren't nuthin fancy. Was not done in an A-1 professional manner. But...dang it's a hoot to take a pile of steel, do a dab of fabrication, and "stick" it together in a manner that is a meaningful end result.
Wouldn't it be cool if every job we have ever done in our lives would meet those simple criteria: fun, interesting, meaningful?
Friday, October 12, 2012
Wright City Sinner
The ranch hand seems to have unwittingly developed an avocation that was neither planned nor expected.
Since retiring a year ago, your humble scribe has been asked to "preach" three funerals for unrelated folks...including one today?
Is the ole fat boy an eloquent speaker. Nope. Is this red-neck Wright City hick purty to look at. Never.
In the book of John, Jesus said, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6). Given that "a calling" is God's personal, individual invitation to carry out the unique task he has for you, how could our Savior view a sinner needy of daily forgiveness a fitting messenger to the bereaved?
The ranch hand acknowledges that God equips each of us with unique spiritual gifts to help us in our "callings".
Romans 12:6-8 tells us that "We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully."
Acts 16:9-10 tells us that the Apostle Paul saw a vision that "called" him to preach the gospel.
Ain't seen no visions, but have certainly feel a "call" on occasion to try to comfort the mere mortals who remain after their loved ones pass on to Glory.
All ya'll pray for this poor sinner to do the right thing, every time, every day.
Since retiring a year ago, your humble scribe has been asked to "preach" three funerals for unrelated folks...including one today?
Is the ole fat boy an eloquent speaker. Nope. Is this red-neck Wright City hick purty to look at. Never.
In the book of John, Jesus said, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6). Given that "a calling" is God's personal, individual invitation to carry out the unique task he has for you, how could our Savior view a sinner needy of daily forgiveness a fitting messenger to the bereaved?
The ranch hand acknowledges that God equips each of us with unique spiritual gifts to help us in our "callings".
Romans 12:6-8 tells us that "We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully."
Acts 16:9-10 tells us that the Apostle Paul saw a vision that "called" him to preach the gospel.
Ain't seen no visions, but have certainly feel a "call" on occasion to try to comfort the mere mortals who remain after their loved ones pass on to Glory.
All ya'll pray for this poor sinner to do the right thing, every time, every day.
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