Sweetbread

As I recollect the young man  had a nack fer doin things with his right hand holdin the hammer,  an then the next time ya seed him he had the hammer in his left hand doin the same thing as when he had it in his right.  Sumpin wuz bad wrong with what I wuz seein, but I cudn’t figger it out right then.  But either way, when he wuz hammerin an holdin the nail, he aint never dun hit the hand ner fingers what wuz holdin the nail.  So, how he dun it is still a big puzzlement ta me.

As he growed sum, folks got ta sort a faverin him ta git jobs dun an all.  Mostly cuz they liked ta watch him doin what normal folks wud do with one hand, only he cud do it with either hand an it wuz sorta fun ta watch an all.  He cud ride a bull what wuz in a pen an hold on perty tight an when the bull had him all figgered out an wuz bout ta twist him ta the right ta toss him off, he cud switch his holdin hand whilst in mid air an when that bull dun hit the ground knowin he wud fly right offn his back, he wud still be stayin on.  Then the bull got all twisted up in its head cuz it knowed he wuz holdin on with the right hand when he started ta jump, but when his feet hit the ground he dun had holt with the left hand.  Same with them hosses, they wud git all twisted up in the head fer the same thing,  an pert near ever time this young man wud win out over the animal he wuz ridin an the animal wud be toted off ta the factery fur makin inta eatin meat.

I dun heerd too he dun played a game where you took a stick an smacked a little ball around until the little ball fell inta a hole in the ground.  Sounds like a perty dum game ta me, but sum folks played it an he wuz one.  Anyway, he got perty gud at that too.  Most folks what play that game can hit the ball ok, but it sum times wud  go to the right when theys wuz tryin ta make it go straight or to the left sum.  An it worked the other ways  to  fer others.  Ifn theys wants the ball ta go ta the right sum, they wud hit it with the stick an it wud go ta the left quite a bit an mess them all up an they wud lose.

This man wud want the ball ta go ta the left, so he wud hold the stick and stand on the right side o that little ball and smack it hard with the stick an the ball wud go ta the left just like he wanted.  Then when he wanted the ball ta go ta the right, he wud hold the stick hard and fast an stand on the left side o that little ball and smack it , sendin the little thing just like he wanted ta the right.  Dangest thing ya ever cud see.  Corse I am just tellin ya what I heerd, cuz I aint never dun seed nobody play a game like that afor, but heerd he did and dun perty good at winnin an all.

What I kin say about his goin from holdin in the right hand an then holdin in the left is when he dun shoots his gun.  I aint never seed  nuttin like it afor or after.

We wuz shootin fer the big prize onest up near where older mountain men dun cashed theys plews when they had too many ta keep track of, an wuz still doin theys doins in the mountains an didn’t want ta carry all them plews with them.  The day wuz bright an sunny an we wuz all tryin ta do good at shootin little bird size balls of hardened clay, what sum body wuz throwin hard inta the air fer us.  We wuz usin our front stuff scatter guns an I might as well a been usin my long gun, cuz I kint kill no clay ball bein throwed like that.

This ol boy wuz knockin them there balls outn the air reglar like, an folks what wuz watchin, an sum what wuz shootin, wuz yellin fowl play an cheatin stuff at him fer doin what he wuz doin.  Corse I didn’t know no better so I just watched with both my eyes just amazed at what they wuz seein.

The man what wuz throwin the balls, wud wait till the shootin man wud say “Throw the bird, I’m ready ta kill it dead”!  Then the man wud throw it hard ta his right, iffn he wuz standin ta the left of the shootin man.  He wud throw it hard to the left if he wuz standin to the right of the shootin man.  But in ever case the shootin man had ta say, “Throw the bird, I’m ready ta kill it dead”, before he wud throw it.

Theys wuz a lot of us shootin fer the big prize that day, an ta say “Throw the bird, I’m ready ta kill it dead” wuz makin fer a perty long day an all.  So the throwin man settled fer the shooter ta jus say “Pull yer head out thrower man an throw it”!  That has been tradition since that day to this. An over a long speel of livin we all knowed things tend ta speed up with time an now I heerd most folks what shoot those little clay birds are down ta jus sayin “Pull”!  It means the same thing.

Sos I watch as this here man dun stands on the far left side of the shootin place an yells fer the thrower man ta throw that ball an out it goes just a flying hard.  The shooter man has the scatter gun held tight in his right shoulder and swings fast at the ball, an pulls the trigger with a bang and the bird blows all up ta smitherins.  Perty shot an kill.  Then, he duz what no other man kin do, he takes the scatter gun an switches over ta the left shoulder an gits hisself all settled in.  Then he yells a second time fer the thrower man ta throw the ball hard, which is promptly dun an agin he swings ta the ball an blows it outn the air real perty like.

The other shooters are yellin that ya gotta shoot ever shot frum the same shootin stance an no switchin, but the rules man he dun said ta quiet down an jus shoot best ya kin.  Jus cuz ya bein outshot by this man what kin switch like that  don’t mean they is any cheatin goin on.  An so the rest of that day we watched as ever time he stood up ta the next shootin spot, he wud shoot the clay bird outn the air first with the right shoulder holding the butt end of that scattergun, an next with the left.  An even tho the rules man said what he dun said, the other shooters wuz yellin fowl an usin lingo what wud a made a preecher frum east of the missip gather his flock an git outa there.  An corse the rules man paid no tention ta theys yellin.  I reckon too that theys yellin wuz makin them feel better bout theys own lack a shootin theys scatterguns as good as this here ol boy wuz shootin.

That didn’t bother this ol boy what wuz shootin good.  He wud jus turn round after shootin an blowin those clay birds outn the air with such ease, an smile a big ol smile like only he cud do.  He dun won that big ol prize that there day an all the shooters had ta admit he dun it hisself, even tho sum still think there shud be sumpin in the rules what says ya kint do that switchin stuff.

Sure nuff at the next rondeevoo, the talkin stick dun cummed out an Blair wuz called ta the fire light.  An after a little story tellin, much like this here story dun already said, the stick wuz raised an then lowered ta the top of each of his shoulders and these words wuz said, “Wherever mountain men shall meet, Blair, you shall be known as “Switch Back”!  An the crowd agreed and much yellen perceeded ta drown out the howls of the wolves, which also agreed.

Well that is how I seed it all cum bout, so since this here is my story, I reckon that is zackly how it wuz.

Bears Butt

June 19, 2011

AHHH, the Bible.  Words of truth and wisdom.  Mans transgressions and courageous acts of near fantacy proving the existence of Him and His powers.  “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.  And the earth was without form……” .  That is how it begins and so this story.

In the beginning a Mountain man was formed, but without true form, for he was young and without form.  There was some character, as you will see, but truly that character has changed as time has gone on.

Rondeevoo sum time back.  Way back ta the beginning as I recollect.  All the folks what wuz there wuz havin the most fun of times.  They be lots an lots of whoopin and hollerin frum daybreak til almost daybreak agin.  I’d give up a heap o plews ta have bin there wit em.  I weren’t there see, cuz I wuzn’t quite borned a mountain man yet.  So ya see this here cuss is recollectin a story bout a mountain man whut wuz just about ta be borned a mountain man.

Seems this here mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet,  dun cumed out o pert near no where in particular, beins he wuz at this here rondeevoo.  He dun been fightin a big ol battle sum place outside the confinds of this great nation of ours.  Seems sum dun got theys hairs all riled up an wanted ta take over sum body elses stuff, an ground,  an how they wuz a livin.  So this here mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet,  went on over ta that place an kicked sum rear end.  An then he cummed back ta find hisself at this here rondeevoo.

He wuz right with the rondeevoo program too an with all the other rondeevoo folks laughin an tellin tall stories (not lies mind you cuz mountain men never lie) an havin sum cold drink an all.  Well this here mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet, wuz tellin his story bout bein where he just dun cummed frum an they wuz believin his story wuz true an all,  an the merriment that he dun cummed back ta rondeevoo wuz makin them all happy an such.  This here mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet, really liked what he dun called, “Annie Green Springs” an It cummed in a tallish green bottle with a cork whut cud be wiggled offn the bottle real easy like an made the contents real sweet.  He dun drinked a whole lot o that stuff cuz that wuz what he wanted ta do.

One night at this here rondeevoo he wuz doin what sum called “tipi creepin”.  That is when yous goes frum one tipi ta the nixt tryin ta find all yer friends what is at rondeevoo, but you aint seed em yet.  Well, fer ever tipi he dun creeped to, he wud have hisself another round o that Annie stuff.  Well that Annie stuff has sumpin in it what makes yer legs git all wiggley an hard ta stand, an yer head all gits spinnin an all.  Well, that there is nuther story.

This here mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet, wuz tipi creepin with the best, an by that I mean,  he dun had a partner wid im what I kint amember what his name wuz fer sure so I am gonna say it wuz a feller with a Christen name o Colby Maughn.  We dun heared a heap about ol Colby frum this here mountain man I bin talkin bout fer years, but we figger he is just a maginary friend that goes with him now an agin.  So, since my memory is not all that good, I gotta put this here Colby feller in this here story, cuz my odds is perty good that it wuz Colby fer sure.  There are a whole heap o stories bout this Colby guy an I plan ta tell ya bout sum one o these days cumin soon.

Back ta the tipi creepin…This here mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet, an this here Colby feller they looked at each other an neither wuz wearin no clothes whut looked like mountain men, but they wuz at rondeevoo just the same,  an all theys friends what wuz there wuz all wearin buckskins an loin clothes an such an wuz lookin real good like mountain men duz.  These two creepers had ta git themselves sum mountain man clothes er might find theyselves In sum heap o trouble.

They dun creeped inta a tipi an this here tipi friend has sum tanned up skins what he wuz tryin ta git rid of.  This here mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet, dun talked this friend outa one o them there skins an tried it on his head like a hat.  Everbody nowed that mountain men wears hats made frum critter skins. This here skin wuz case skinned an tanned up real good, with the critters hair still on the outside all shined up perty like.  The tipi friend wuz all fer tradin this here skin fer a drink offn that Annie jug an they laughed an had a good time tellin tales an such fer a long time.

You probably knowed what cased skinned is, but case ya don’t I will try an splain best I kin.  Ya see case skinned means ya start ta skin the critter frum the leg an tail part o the critter an ya careful like skin all the hide offn the critter down ta his nose, bein real careful not ta cut no holes in the hide an makin sure ta pull the front feet thru the hide careful too, an then ya cut off the ears, eyes, an whiskers, an nose in such good fashion that when you is dun an turns the critters hide right side out when you is dun, it looks just like the critter still had his body left in, but the body is dun gone.  Hope that makes a heap of sents ta you, cuz I kint think o no more way ta tell ya.

After jawin fer a gud part o the night time, this here mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet, an his maginary Colby friend, dun decided that since the tipi friend, whut traded a few horns offn the Annie jug fer the case skinned hat,  cudn’t git up no more on accounta he dun had wiggly legs an all, that they wud just be on theys way ta do more tipi creepin.

They dun wiggly legged theys selves down the trail ta the next tipi they wuz gonna creep inta an as they duz, the friend inside the tipi dun looks up an suprized like he says “Muskrat”!  Well, this mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet, looks inta the friends eye cross the fire inside o that there tipi an says “Yip”!

Any body what bin ta rondeevoo knows what cums next.  Ya see that there case skinned hat that wuz on top o the mountain man, what wuzzn’t yets’, head wuz a skinned out muskrat.  An the openin on the open part o the cased skin ain’t too big, an so it sits top the mountain man, what wuzzn’t yets’, head perty high like bov his ears,  an the nose of that there cased skinned critter wuz near ta make the whole hat look sorta pointy like.

The friend in that there tipi, what sawed the mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet, cumin inta his lodge looked up an saw, NOT the mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet, but the pointy little hat on his head an he dun recognized the cased skinned critter as the muskrat what it wuz an he dun said what cummed outa his mouth first off…muskrat!

The mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet, an his maginary friend Colby an this here friend in the lodge, they dun sat fer sum time laughin an drinkin the rest of that there Annie jug an they dun had they selves a good time sure.  One thing that happened in that there lodge fer sure wuz a namin that there night,  an wherever mountain men shall meet, this here mountain man, what wuzzn’t yet, but is now, forever shall be called “Muskrat”!

And that’s how I knowed this here story ta go an that is just the way it wuz an is.

I jus bet too that ifn ever at rondeevoo we dun seed that ol hoss what Muskrat calls Colby, there be a naming cuz maginary friends has ta have a name too, an Colby just aint gonna be it in the mountain man world.

Bears Butt

June 19, 2011

On a trip to central California a few years back, Sherry and I found ourselves at cousin Mike and Ilenes place.  Staying there while we were visiting was my Aunt LeOra.  A very lovely lady who carries herself with pride and dignity.  She is very well educated and a kind and gentle soul.  She has worked hard her entire 97 years and raised her children with respect and caring as well.  She is very well liked by all who have ever met her.  She is graceful and very beautiful in appearance.  Spirited like only a few.  A strong belief in God and all that He stands for.

When one speaks of Aunt LeOra visions of grandeur and grace fills the mind.  Kindness and caring, sharing and comfort all come into play as well.  Aunt LeOra is everything a child looks for in a parent and a grandchild looks for in a grandparent.  The perfect mold of what a person on earth should be..well almost…there was this ONE time….let me tell you about it.

Our visit began with a night spent with another cousin, Marlin.  Marlin is a daughter from my Uncle John and Aunt Irma.  Marlin lives in a very respectful neighborhood nestled in and around a very nice golf course near where this story began.  Marlin was happy Sherry and I were coming out to California, because Willardites NEVER leave Willard and yet here we were.  She was so pleased she even went out and purchased me a new set of “Red Flannel Underwear”, an had them hanging  outside her home as a welcome flag when we drove up!  You may think that was not a very nice thing to do, but for this here mountain man that was about the nicest thing anyone could have done.  Sort of a common flag of welcome home!  We all know that mountain men with any dignity at all wear red flannel underwear and those that don’t have either not found any, or have wrought there way into the savage ways of loin cloths and other such savage wearings.

I thank you very much cousin Marlin for such a very kind jesture and gift!  I wear them  at every rendezvous and on the deer hunts and winter outings I go to.  They are high quality and very warm.

Back to Aunt LeOra.

From Marlins home we advanced to Ilene’s for continued vacation fun.  Finding Aunt LeOra there was such a treat.  We had no idea she would be there and thought that visiting her home was going to be a part of our adventure.  But, even though we did go and visit her “Paradise” before our trek took us toward home, we had a WONDERFUL visit with her at Ilenes’.  A longer visit than perhaps SHE wanted.  You see, the Willarditeness never leaves a Willardite and when we found ourselves deep in the bowels of California, surrounded by Californiaites we knew we were in for a great time.  We have all read the warnings on several of the items we purchase that says something like: “Has been known to cause ‘some dreadful thing’ in people in California”.  Well perhaps this story should have come with a warning.

One evening we had had a wonderful barbeque meal and several cold drinks and we were laughing and cutting up.  Even had a visit from Sir Butt.  The conversation got around to mountain man things and eventually out came the Red Flannel underwear that Marlin had given me!  I politely asked gracious Aunt LeOra if she would like to try them on.

“Oh My”! , she said with a gasp, “A LADY does NOT wear such clothing”!  Ok.  I’m Ok with that.  After all it was rude of my asking, but then that is just my character.  And I might add, she is the same lady who told her daughter Ilene they would have to take her burial garments back to the store because they were “Dry Clean Only”!  How could I have been so rude to her?  It must have been the beer.  Yes!  The beer!

We went to bed on a cheerful note and slept well.  The neighborhood police had surrounded the entire block and made sure the Willardites stayed locked up.

The next morning out in Mike and Ilene’s back yard (such a beautiful place it is, with squirrels, birds of all California kinds and  fragrent flowers abounding) I sat , in my red flannels, sipping a cup of MoJo and just plain enjoying the beautiful morning.  When suddenly, the sliding glass door bursts open and there, LO AND BEHOLD,  stood my gracious Aunt LeOra with nothing on but my Red Flannel Underwear!  GASP!!!!  A LADY does NOT wear such clothing!!!!!!  But there she was, the same gracious, caring, loving person actually WEARING that set of red flannel underwear.  She looked pretty good in them too.

Well, you know me!  I’m not afraid to tell you I look pretty dang good in my red flannel underwear, and so the two of us must look doubly good in our red flannel underwear, so pictures were taken.

NOW, before you get to see the picture of the two of us, you must swear to secrecy not to tell the bishop of her ward, nor the ladies of the ward,  or anyone else that might take this as her falling from her well deserved pedestal and cause her grief.  She is too sweet to do that to.  Let’s just say we two Willardites brought wrath and uneasiness to the California Natives and caused some of her medications to fail.

Ladies and Gentlemen (say that with the tone and enunciation of a sports casters voice)!  I now present you with Aunt LeOra and the Bears Butt! (same voice)

What a wonderful, great sport she is!

Bears Butt

June 17, 2011