From A Wide Spot In The Road

Welcome aboard. I have had accupressure.
 

@drifter have you organised to get a cell phone even if just for emergencies?
Such a handy thing to have and will give you peace of mind
There is a myriad of cell phones out there but get a Senior Cell Phone like this
Big numbers and easy to read and navigate around
Some have a holder which doubles as a charger too

6037900b9c44488c5adfc51099667b84.jpg
 

I used to try to write, not a short story, nor a novel, or any book, just short stuff
easy to read on the internet. I did write a few things, things I had pondered and
thought of with favor. Some I put here, some elsewhere. I've been trying to gather
them together in one place. Some of them I have. Some are lost to me forever,
especially those written on an old English Forum called "Get Writing." But that's
water under under the bridge.

I'm trying to get my mind organized again so hat I might put together some ideas
and details thaat make up a story as in fiction. Half truth and half fact, along with
some experiences that when put together would make a suitable article, not
necessarily to please a reader but something to keep one's mind plausible and
stable, and as free as possible from dimentia so that those around me or engaging
me in some fashion, one might even say his mind is still sharp and his personality
steady and ongoing, be cause he reads and he wrote clearly, the result no doubt
of a clear mind. So I have decided to again give it a whirl and see what comes out.

Forgive me if I start with something already written as in this short, short.



Mexicano Pistoleers

He walked down the dusty street from the livery to the saloon The dust whirled in the street. His hand rested on the butt of his gun which rested in his Mexican styled holster. The street was quite, the shops were quite. There were no horses tied off at the saloon. Where was everybody? Watching him from behind dusty windows, no doubt. This was like a dozen towns he knew from Dodge City to Tombstone. He had been running knowing a posse was on his trail.

He didn’t think they were bluffing. They would eventually catch up to him. Even so he'd given them the slip. But he would run no more. Here he would make his stand. He was good, he knew it and lawmen all over knew it. They would not brace him.

It’s true he had robbed the stage and he had shot the driver and a man in the coach. The driver had a rifle on the seat with him and he picked it up. If the darn fool in the coach had not gone for that derringer he’d still be alive but he had and had died for his trouble. Something was wrong, the town was too quite. He rode into town minutes before noon. The place should be thriving. No one stirred on the street. There was no traffic. Even the saloon appeared empty.

They would come for him but let them come. He would take care of them as he had done in the past. Posses down here in southern Arizona were always a bunch of Mexican low-life being led by some sheriff who had stayed in office so long he could hardly pick up a heavy pistol. He would show them. His hand still on his gun he started for the saloon when he saw movement in the alley, a lone individual.

“Drop you gun and raise your hands, Senior, you are surrounded.”

Surrounded? A lone man with no gun. This was a game he knew well and he crouched and pull his gun.

A dozen Mexican pistoleers cut him down.
 
drifter said:
I used to try to write, not a short story, nor a novel, or any book, just short stuff
easy to read on the internet. I did write a few things, things I had pondered and
thought of with favor. Some I put here, some elsewhere. I've been trying to gather
them together in one place. Some of them I have. Some are lost to me forever,
especially those written on an old English Forum called "Get Writing." But that's
water under under the bridge.

I'm trying to get my mind organized again so hat I might put together some ideas
and details thaat make up a story as in fiction. Half truth and half fact, along with
some experiences that when put together would make a suitable article, not
necessarily to please a reader but something to keep one's mind plausible and
stable, and as free as possible from dimentia so that those around me or engaging
me in some fashion, one might even say his mind is still sharp and his personality
steady and ongoing, be cause he reads and he wrote clearly, the result no doubt
of a clear mind. So I have decided to again give it a whirl and see what comes out.

Forgive me if I start with something already written as in this short, short.



Mexicano Pistoleers

He walked down the dusty street from the livery to the saloon The dust whirled in the street. His hand rested on the butt of his gun which rested in his Mexican styled holster. The street was quite, the shops were quite. There were no horses tied off at the saloon. Where was everybody? Watching him from behind dusty windows, no doubt. This was like a dozen towns he knew from Dodge City to Tombstone. He had been running knowing a posse was on his trail.

He didn’t think they were bluffing. They would eventually catch up to him. Even so he'd given them the slip. But he would run no more. Here he would make his stand. He was good, he knew it and lawmen all over knew it. They would not brace him.

It’s true he had robbed the stage and he had shot the driver and a man in the coach. The driver had a rifle on the seat with him and he picked it up. If the darn fool in the coach had not gone for that derringer he’d still be alive but he had and had died for his trouble. Something was wrong, the town was too quite. He rode into town minutes before noon. The place should be thriving. No one stirred on the street. There was no traffic. Even the saloon appeared empty.

They would come for him but let them come. He would take care of them as he had done in the past. Posses down here in southern Arizona were always a bunch of Mexican low-life being led by some sheriff who had stayed in office so long he could hardly pick up a heavy pistol. He would show them. His hand still on his gun he started for the saloon when he saw movement in the alley, a lone individual.

“Drop you gun and raise your hands, Senior, you are surrounded.”

Surrounded? A lone man with no gun. This was a game he knew well and he crouched and pull his gun.

A dozen Mexican pistoleers cut him down.
Click to expand...
Hey, you're pretty darn good Drifter! I felt like I was there.
 
Another recently written.

The Last Dance

It was the last dance of summer. A big barn dance held annually at the ranch headquarters of Dan Daniels and his daughter, Julie.

“Daughter that’s the third dance you’ve danced with that stranger. Don’t you think you might dance with someone else? Who is he anyway?”

“Dad, his name is Luke.. I don’t know much about him but he dances wonderfully. He keeps asking me to dance and, well, he is handsome.”

“He seems to be somewhat beneath you, Julie. Look how he’s dressed, run-over boots heels, thread bare jeans, he’s a common stock hand, if he’s a job at all. You can do better than that. Look around, there’s a half dozen respectable suiters, sons of ranchers we know, waiting in line to dance with you. Find someone respectable.”

“This is the last dance of the summer, dad. You do want me to have a good time, don’t you? And, I do find him respectable.”

But she didn’t stay for the next dance. Instead she left the barn and went over to the house and into the kitchen. She got a glass of water and sat down at the table. She knew her father wanted her to marry one of the local rancher’s sons. Quite, frankly, she wouldn’t give a quarter for the whole lot of them. She wished she’d found out more about Luke. Where he worked, where he lived. He was such a tall, good looking guy. Why hadn’t they seen him around here before? She didn’t want to hurt her dad but…

“Cuse me? May I come in?”

Julie looked as Luke took a step toward the table, He said, “I didn’t want to leave with out saying good night,” and he pulled out a chair and set down beside her.

“Are you leaving,“ she asked?

“I am if you are. You see, I came down to the dance to see you.”

“I don’t think we should see each other any more. It was fun dancing with you but I don’t know anything about you, and well, there’s going to be a lot of work going on around here and I won’t have time to be socializing. So, let’s just say it was nice to know you.”

Luke got up from his chair, “Ok,” he said. and he walked around the table, pulled out a chair across from Julie, “Ok, but first, hear me out. You got any coffee around here?”

“I don’t think we have enough time for coffee and I’m not in the socializing mood.”

“ Ok, but I talk better over a cup of coffee. Here’s the deal, my neighbor has been telling me for several months all about you and that I should come down and take a gander at you. She told me about this dance. I was at a rodeo and thought since I was this close, I’d drop in for a look see. So here we are. You can asked me anything you want.“

Did you ride in the rodeo,” Julie ,asked?

“No ma’am, I’m not that good.”

“You look like you could use a payday, like a steer might have come out the winner.” Julie answered. “Who do you know whose been talking about me?”

“Sorry, she asked me not to tell.”

“Well, said Julie, if you don’t beat all. I think this conversation is over. Good night, Mr, Mr. Who are you anyway and what are you doing here at this dance, This shindig is for families who live around here, ranchers and their families. Who are you anyway? I think you should leave now.”

Well, I disagree. You see a dance is a place for a guy to eyeball all the gals and pick out one he might want to take home with him and I came here, looked around at all the pretty gals and to see if any met my specifications.

Just then the door burst open and Julie’s dad and another man came in to the room. The other man had a gun strapped around his waist and a badge pinned on his shirt. “What’s going on here Julie?”

Luke said, “ I guess this is all my doings, Mr Daniels. Louise told me I should come down and meet Ms Julie. She thought we might hit it off but I recon I’ve put my foot in my mouth one time too many.”

“Louise who,” Julie’s dad asked?

“Well, your sister, at least, she said she was. She and Tom are neighbors and she thought we might get to know each other. Truth is, I recon I come a courting but haven’t had much experience. Maybe I should go back up to Sheridan and start over.”

“What’d you say your name was,” Julie’s dad asked?

“I didn’t say, Mr Daniels, but my name is Luke. Luke Shelby”
The sheriff spoke up, “Are you the Shelby who furnishes stock for the rodeo circuit?”

“Afraid I’m guilty, Sheriff,” Luke said. “Guess I’d better be off. Long drive back to Sheridan.”

“Don’t rush off, Luke, we’ve a spare bedroom and it’d be total nonsense to make that drive back tonight. Didn’t mean to be abrupt but I like to know who Julie is seeing. But anyone my sister approves of is worth another look. You two going back for the last dance?” he asked as he and the sheriff left the kitchen.

Julie stood up and took his hand, “Come with me.”

Luke stood, “I’ve got to get back, Julie, but I want to see again.” He gazed up and down her slender frame. “You’re a good looking, long legged gal.”

He put his arms around her and pulled her close. “You save that last dance for me, you hear?” He kissed her lightly on her lips, and was gone.
 
drifter said:
Another recently written.

The Last Dance

It was the last dance of summer. A big barn dance held annually at the ranch headquarters of Dan Daniels and his daughter, Julie.

“Daughter that’s the third dance you’ve danced with that stranger. Don’t you think you might dance with someone else? Who is he anyway?”

“Dad, his name is Luke.. I don’t know much about him but he dances wonderfully. He keeps asking me to dance and, well, he is handsome.”

“He seems to be somewhat beneath you, Julie. Look how he’s dressed, run-over boots heels, thread bare jeans, he’s a common stock hand, if he’s a job at all. You can do better than that. Look around, there’s a half dozen respectable suiters, sons of ranchers we know, waiting in line to dance with you. Find someone respectable.”

“This is the last dance of the summer, dad. You do want me to have a good time, don’t you? And, I do find him respectable.”

But she didn’t stay for the next dance. Instead she left the barn and went over to the house and into the kitchen. She got a glass of water and sat down at the table. She knew her father wanted her to marry one of the local rancher’s sons. Quite, frankly, she wouldn’t give a quarter for the whole lot of them. She wished she’d found out more about Luke. Where he worked, where he lived. He was such a tall, good looking guy. Why hadn’t they seen him around here before? She didn’t want to hurt her dad but…

“Cuse me? May I come in?”

Julie looked as Luke took a step toward the table, He said, “I didn’t want to leave with out saying good night,” and he pulled out a chair and set down beside her.

“Are you leaving,“ she asked?

“I am if you are. You see, I came down to the dance to see you.”

“I don’t think we should see each other any more. It was fun dancing with you but I don’t know anything about you, and well, there’s going to be a lot of work going on around here and I won’t have time to be socializing. So, let’s just say it was nice to know you.”

Luke got up from his chair, “Ok,” he said. and he walked around the table, pulled out a chair across from Julie, “Ok, but first, hear me out. You got any coffee around here?”

“I don’t think we have enough time for coffee and I’m not in the socializing mood.”

“ Ok, but I talk better over a cup of coffee. Here’s the deal, my neighbor has been telling me for several months all about you and that I should come down and take a gander at you. She told me about this dance. I was at a rodeo and thought since I was this close, I’d drop in for a look see. So here we are. You can asked me anything you want.“

Did you ride in the rodeo,” Julie ,asked?

“No ma’am, I’m not that good.”

“You look like you could use a payday, like a steer might have come out the winner.” Julie answered. “Who do you know whose been talking about me?”

“Sorry, she asked me not to tell.”

“Well, said Julie, if you don’t beat all. I think this conversation is over. Good night, Mr, Mr. Who are you anyway and what are you doing here at this dance, This shindig is for families who live around here, ranchers and their families. Who are you anyway? I think you should leave now.”

Well, I disagree. You see a dance is a place for a guy to eyeball all the gals and pick out one he might want to take home with him and I came here, looked around at all the pretty gals and to see if any met my specifications.

Just then the door burst open and Julie’s dad and another man came in to the room. The other man had a gun strapped around his waist and a badge pinned on his shirt. “What’s going on here Julie?”

Luke said, “ I guess this is all my doings, Mr Daniels. Louise told me I should come down and meet Ms Julie. She thought we might hit it off but I recon I’ve put my foot in my mouth one time too many.”

“Louise who,” Julie’s dad asked?

“Well, your sister, at least, she said she was. She and Tom are neighbors and she thought we might get to know each other. Truth is, I recon I come a courting but haven’t had much experience. Maybe I should go back up to Sheridan and start over.”

“What’d you say your name was,” Julie’s dad asked?

“I didn’t say, Mr Daniels, but my name is Luke. Luke Shelby”
The sheriff spoke up, “Are you the Shelby who furnishes stock for the rodeo circuit?”

“Afraid I’m guilty, Sheriff,” Luke said. “Guess I’d better be off. Long drive back to Sheridan.”

“Don’t rush off, Luke, we’ve a spare bedroom and it’d be total nonsense to make that drive back tonight. Didn’t mean to be abrupt but I like to know who Julie is seeing. But anyone my sister approves of is worth another look. You two going back for the last dance?” he asked as he and the sheriff left the kitchen.

Julie stood up and took his hand, “Come with me.”

Luke stood, “I’ve got to get back, Julie, but I want to see again.” He gazed up and down her slender frame. “You’re a good looking, long legged gal.”

He put his arms around her and pulled her close. “You save that last dance for me, you hear?” He kissed her lightly on her lips, and was gone.
Click to expand...

Love it 🐞
 
Looks likethe snow has ended, gone northeast leaving some ten inches on the ground here. The wind is calm and the sun iis trying to come out. Three degree s out. Our rolling blackouts have started. I ex pect that will happen up and down the midwest from the gulf coast to the Canadian border. I've got on an extra llayer of clothes, waiting for the sunshine and warmer days.
 
Beginning to warm up. 21 degrees today, willo be warmer tomorrow. Been reading a lot. Ebooks from the library', mostly but today I bought
three kindle books from Amazon. Like most everyone else I 'm tired of winter, tired of this pandemic.. Sometime life is fun, sometime its a
pain.
 
What can I say? That Willy Nelson is older than me but I am trying to outlive him. That’s right,
Willy is older by twenty six days. He’s a go getter, has been popular in music since he was eight years old, he has accomplished much in his life, Still making news in the music world, still making money. You know him, know who he is. He’s the Red Headed Stranger.

On the other hand I’m a little different. Couldn’t carry a tune in a sound proof bucket, never played a musical instrument. Never owned a bus, never paid a band to follow me around. More akin to a nobody than a music man. I’m a hired hand. Next month I will have another. This month Willy will. We’re going to be eighty-eight. Willy will still be walking out on stage, saying, “Hi, I’m
Willy Nelson and this is my guitar. ”I’ll say, hi, I’m Drifter, trying to find my way around in this
wheelchair.

Well, that‘s the way it is. The race is on but don’t you tell Willy. He has a way about him when he sets a goal. Me, I don’t have have much get up and go. But that doesn’t mean the race is over, there’s many miles of living to go. So stay tuned. Whether you’re running a marathon or
taking a hike you never know what‘s going to happen or what great flood is behind that dike.
So I’ll see you around.
 
Last edited:
we'll be here Drifter. somebody has to wipe your wheels when you come in. *chuckles* Willy ain't got nothin on you. i never cared for his music anyway. he may out live us all. but you my friend will always be more favored in my book. if i had to choose between lunch with you or lunch with Willy...you'd be da one my friend!

hope you have a good week *hugs*
 
Okay, Willy won. I'm withdrawing. The contest is won by Willy by default. S o,
onward and forward to the real prize which lies just over the rise, under a small
grove of trees, just off the road. What is it someone asks? Go and see. It could
be a pile of horse manure or an old torn, weather-beaten wallet containing
seven hundred pounds in gold and paper currency.
 
LOL! Would hardly be worth the roll down the street anyway would it?

I think my squirrel friends are sad cuz I ain't been out to feed them with the bum rib.
 
Squirrels have short memories. good-smell, but can’t remember. Feed them in a day or two when
you feel like it and they’ll not remember missing a thing.
 
Feeling bad. Wanting to sleep all the time. Phone rang. Son calling wanting to know
if we had something to eat. He will pick up something. Washed the dishes.
 
drifter said:
Feeling bad. Wanting to sleep all the time. Phone rang. Son calling wanting to know
if we had something to eat. He will pick up something. Washed the dishes.
Click to expand...
Don't feel bad. Your body needs the rest. My dad does the same thing. That's nice that your son is picking something up for you. I wish I lived closer to mine so I could help more but I can't even help myself at the moment. LOL
 

You must log in or register to reply here.

Back
Top