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THE OLD COWBOY Part Thirty Nine
"Nature all around me. Just the way the good Lord had it planned me thinks."
"Amarillo Grandpa? You mentioned it before, where's that at?"
"Well sir, it's in Texas up near the pan handle of Oklahoma. It set down near the border of the great state of New Mexico.
We started our push one Monday morn. It was cool for October. Clovis sets high up on a ridge in their mountains. the rancher Mc Clenahan says the winters are near impossible, but the summers are perfect, just like Ireland.
We rode along an' he'd talk. He'd talked about Ireland..., a lot. He said the clover was a beautiful thing in late May. He told of the ocean waves crashin' against the rocks on the beach. And I think he really missed drinkin' his Irish whiskey."
"Dad says whiskey ain't no good. It rots your mind away. And he says to many fellas get real mean when they drink it, and get in trouble."
"He's right! Yes sir, he is so right."
"But Grandpa, what about Irish whiskey? Is it different?"
"Well now it always tastes like whiskey to me, but then way back then I had to believe what ol' Jim was tellin' me. He said they'd use special corn and hops, and blend and age it. And he said the Leprechauns would touch the bottles and turn the contents green. As for me, I don't remember ever seein' any green whiskey. We rode along and ol' Jim Mc Clenahan kept us laughin'. He was tellin' us jokes 'till I had 'em comin' out my ears.
Don't get me wrong, that ol' boy was a darn good shot with a riffle. We had rabbit stew and cornbread a lot on that trip. He was no roper though. Not that he couldn't, it just wasn't his thing.
He went chasin' this 'yearling' one time. Little calf went headin'..."
To Be Continued. . .
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