Jefferson Review

"Your Liberty is Our Interest"

Home /  Archives / Search / Links / Quotes / Book Reviews / Advertise /Contact us / Subscribe / Calendar

Greetings From A Friend Out West

By Tom Preble

She'd slapped her little brother in the face so hard that his nose began to bleed.  -"That's it!"  I pulled the school bus over, set the brake, stood up and just roared at them all.  "What have you done?  He's just a little kid.  How dare you endanger us all with such behavior, how cruel, how rude!"   Attending the little brother's nose with paper towels I had him tip his head back and soothed him best as I could.  With his sobs as punctuation, the sister got a hard and fast explanation of just how close she has come to banishment from the bus.  The rest of the bus ride home was in universal silence save for the hollow roar of diesel engine and gear shifting echoing against a curved  metal ceiling.

Fast forward a week.  The child behind me began a sentence with: "My friend said..."  I interjected humorously:  "You have a friend? –You’re lucky, I wish I had a friend.  I think all my friends are insurance salesmen."

Then a strange thing happened.  Several children, large and small had heard my remark and chimed in almost simultaneously:  "Tom, we're your friends!"  This was followed by a chorus of agreement from the rest of the kids. 

"Really?"  I replied, genuinely touched by their tone: "You're my friends? - Even when I yell at you...?"

"YES, WE ARE!"

Darn kids, they get to me all the time without even trying.  Well, I do have friends.  Not many, I'm too prickly for that, but if you've read this far know that I consider you a friend.  Someone who knows me well, or is beginning to -and likes me anyway...

School bus driving is over until fall.  There are a number of attractive ladies that drive bus and one guy on the witness protection program (that would be me).  Our school year end party is always a blast. - Great food, lots of humor from the year just past and really special punch (wink, wink- nudge, nudge).

The summer break began Friday, May 30th with me spending the day giving our garage an enema.  Not only can two cars park in there, but I can actually see them from the door to the kitchen! 

Saturday and today saw me doing fence repairs all day, first light to dark.  I'm pooped, but not too pooped to write you.  Charlie's cows are now safely ensconced in their summer home, our ranch.  Charlie and I enjoyed some long conversation as he helped me finish up the fence work on the southeast pasture.  Charlie and I also enjoyed working in a rainstorm.  When the lightning came close we then enjoyed sprinting for Charlie's truck.  At the house we wrung out our clothes and enjoyed Ilene's hot coffee, tea and pancakes with eggs, of course.

When the sun came out, it was back to work for us.  Charlie noticed how we're both rather trim, for old guys.  I allowed as to how it was due to heavy ranch work. -And that we've been a mile or so away from the refrigerator all day.  Charlie said a woman had commented on his leanness and wondered how a man in his fifties stayed so trim.  "You ever seen a fat coyote?" - was all he'd said to her. 

Now Ilene was the opposite.  This morning when I'd slipped on my fencing clothes she commented on how my old jeans were getting tight in the seat.  "Your butt is getting big", she'd said. 

"Well, that's to be expected honey", I sighed.  "You know how they say old married people begin to look alike over time..."

The key is to be ready for the sprint before you drop little gems like that.  Fortunately she was laughing too much to be able to slug me hard.

Seven tenths, nearly an inch, that's the rain we got today.  All the cattle tanks are full and grass is belly high, studded with a riot of wildflowers.  Yellow, purple, blazing orange, blue, pink - the flowers, eternal optimists, are everywhere.  Our hills look like Ireland.  What a change from last year's drought. 

This evening after a long day of work, I put the tractor and fencing tools away.  Our home was in the bluff's shadow but the pastures were yellow - green, rippling in the late, final rays of light.  Cows rested on a hilltop calmly gazing over it all through eyes half lidded -exuding profound bovine approval of things as they ought to be.

Be well, my friend.  Breathe deep the cool, clean air.  We are so alive and lucky, aren't we?

Tom

Weather (Louisville) / Mapquest / Search / White Pages / Business Search / CNN / Dictionary / E-card / MSN