Opinions

Thu
14
Mar
Edgar's picture

The Hunter’s Son

This is the poem of the hunter’s son as he tracks the woods alone And the beaver’s revenge when he seeks to avenge the hunter’s gauntlet thrown By choosing to pair with a grizzly bear, big, nasty and fully grown.

He was raised in the woods and meadow where ice and forest collide In the Peace River reach where fathers still teach their sons how to hunt and provide Young Scott was in search of the beaver. The country was thick with’em then. Traps were his love but he wasn’t above a rifle shot now and again.

He snuck through the woods like a shadow and stopped just short of a spring. There on the bank like a person of rank sat Oscar, the Beaver King He was big as a Yellowknife huskie and humming a Rachmaninov Scott froze in his tracks, Oscar never looked back till he heard the safety click off.

 

Fri
08
Mar
Edgar's picture

Letters

Editor:

STOKES & BADGETT are communities very few will remember. John & Mary Badgett settled in the area northwest of the Courtney school. They were farmers along with his brother Jim Badgett. Many families became decedents from the Badgetts. Nettie Hale raised a houseful of fine students who attended the Courtney school. They were Doyle, Bill, Bernice, Jean Ann, Hubert, Charles, Kenneth and Betty. Mrs. “Nettie” also raised daughters, Averil le and Laura. Jim Tom owned land there and James and Frances Biggs farmed it and raised two daughters, Beth and Cathey. They attend the Courtney school as well.

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Thu
28
Feb
Edgar's picture

Nuggets

There are some suddenlies of God. We have used this scripture before, some time ago. We could never tell about it enough or even get all the spiritual meaning out of it.

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Thu
28
Feb
Edgar's picture

GRAFTIN’ CALVES

I was ugly when I was born. How ugly were you? I was so ugly they had to tie my mother’s legs together so I could nurse! If you’ve ever grafted a calf you know just what I’m talkin’ about.

Graftin’ calves. An unnatural act. One of the more frustrating parts of calvin’ season. You’ve got a good (or not so good) heifer who lost her calf to calvin’ difficulty, scours, deep water, snow drifts, tractor tires, excitement, BVD or any of a million or two reasons that we could all by name.

You figger to graft another calf in its place from one of your many sources: a twin, a dried up heifer, the sale barn, the local dairy, Walmart or one of those late night television commercials that offers a fourlegged lizard to Guy-Ko you, tape you can plug your septic tank with, or the pillow man to personally come to your home to fluff you up!

 

Thu
21
Feb
Edgar's picture

BAT MASTERSON LEGEND MORE FICTION THAN FACT

A young buffalo hunter made a play for the wrong girl in a Texas dancehall on Feb. 24, 1876, and Bat Masterson was lucky to survive his first and last fatal gunfight.

Five years later, a reporter for the New York Sun went out west in search of vicarious thrills for his eastern readers. In a Colorado hotel, a talkative doctor gave the greenhorn exactly what he wanted.

Pointing out a dapper figure across the lobby, the physician said, “There is a man who has killed 26 men, and he is only 27 years of age.” Glad to pull a gullible stranger’s leg, he invented a tongue-in-cheek tale that transformed Bat Masterson into a national celebrity.

Widely reprinted as fact, the prize piece of fiction caused a Kansas City journalist to arrange an interview with the overnight sensation. Masterson went along with the self-serving gag until asked to divulge the details of a shoot-out in the Texas Panhandle.

 

Thu
21
Feb
Edgar's picture

Cowboy Cartoonists

In my life there are people with talents I admire: horse trainers, good ropers, cattle traders, backyard mechanics, welders, guitar players. A.I. technicians, farriers, purebred breeders and rough stock riders, for instance. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that you can’t be good at everything, so, even though I admire these talents I don’t envy them.

However, there is one gifted group that I come close to envying... cartoonists. I am lucky to be friends with many of this wacky persuasion. I’m partial to cowboy cartoonists. I can relate closely with their dead pan looney observations or bug-eyed, cinch bustin’ cow catastrophes that they spread across a slice-of-bread-size scene like bumpy blackberry jam.

Thu
14
Feb
Edgar's picture

Nuggets

Being a farming community we understand the natural law of planting and harvest time. I love to smell the fresh turned soil and have the expectation of the new baby plants, then looking forward to the harvest, thinking of having the reward for all the work. God the creator of all things uses sowing and reaping as an example to teach us spiritual things.

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Thu
14
Feb
Edgar's picture

Letters

Editor:

Smoking or not Some of you may have wondered about my letters. I had taken some time off.

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Fri
08
Feb
Edgar's picture

AUSTIN HAD NO GREATER CHAMPION THAN HIS COUSIN

by Bartee Haile

Mary Austin Holley landed at Galveston on Feb. 6, 1843 on her fifth and final visit to her dead cousin’s former colony.

When Stephen F. Austin was 11 years old, his father Moses sent him back east to stay with relatives the boy barely knew. From 1804 until 1807, the future “Father of Texas” studied at an academy in New Haven, Connecticut and got acquainted with his kinfolks.

 

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Fri
08
Feb
Edgar's picture

Bentley, The Born Again Bull

It was one of those two o’clock mornin’ calls: “Looked like everything was comin’ jes fine, Doc, then he got stuck! Could you come?”

On the way out to the ranch I put the truck on autopilot while my foggy brain sifted through the possibilities. Hip lock, more than likely, I figgered. I walked into the calvin’ barn, shook the snow off my coat and surveyed the scene. Fairly peaceful. Two unshaven cowboys playin’ cards in front of the space heater and a good-sized heifer standing in the chute looking no worse for the wear. “Good,” I thought, “The boys haven’t worn the heifer out before they called.” Or themselves either, for that matter.

 

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