Wendy Liddle, use to live down the road from me in a little town called Clinton. While she lived there we got busy exchanging my cowboy gags for her drawings. Several magical moments came out of our working together. One was the way she sketched my cartoon on my horse Trigger. At the time it didn’t look like me. Years later when the Mill Girls (who also hailed from Clinton) asked me to join them – that’s exactly what I looked like! Wendy of course was long gone from town…
Wendy illustrated my poem, “Let Life” with a ballerina on a horse. How did she know? I never told her (or anyone) I had once been a ballerina…what seemed a lifetime ago and at the other end of the country!
Well here is the poem from my book “Well Hell” along with Wendy’s drawing for it.
Poem and Drawing
Lift your chin
Stir your heart
Dance your limbs.
Take its course…
This is a short story published by Whitecap Books, 2000, “A Cowboy Christmas, Celebrating the Season on Ranch and Range,” Edited by Anne Tempelman-Kluit
When Cowboys Were Boys
by Katie Kidwell
You know, I’ve got some real fine memories of Christmas.
Now when Christmas comes, and I’m snowed up and alone in some line shack feeding cattle, I get those memories out and have myself a grand old time remembering.
Used to be when I was a boy we always had something happening and I remember one Christmas when the folks had to go into town to pick up some Aunt who’d just arrived from Boston. My sister was quite a rascal back then. Just as soon as they were gone we opened up both the front and back doors of the house and filled the floor between with a good layer of snow. Then we took our old sleigh up the hill which was right behind the back door and boy did we let her rip…right through the back door and out the front. Course we had to aim real careful or we hit the wall.
Sure was fun…of course we caught hell when the folks got back. I think my father got a kick out of it but he wasn’t gonna let mother know. No, she wasn’t all that fussy about the mess we made, that’s for sure!
Yes sir, it sure is nice to remember Christmas when you’re all alone somewhere listening to the wind howl. Kind of puts the sound of church bells and carols into your soul just thinking about it.
If keyboards could talk, it would be better than prime time on any network! Could you leave your keyboard at the office at the end of the day?
What a sight it would be, most everyone packing their keyboards home. Cool outer gag wear would be created just for this unless of course our keyboards were fussing. In which case a bottle of water might work. Steel briefcases would be back in style ’cause some people might like to look innocent…taking files home to work on…
Of course everyone with a home computer would want to know if the delete or mute button worked when company came over. Imagine having your cocktail party crashed by a drunk keyboard upstairs on full volume. Whoops, who spilt the wine?
Yes, keyboard sales would go up. Smashed ones at the end of the day would be followed by a Starbucks, and an extra one for the keyboard. AND then there would be comments around the office like…“oh she’s such a goody-goody. She never takes her keyboard home. She’s always kissing the bosses keyboard…You get my drift?
Paranoid people worried about every keyboard they ever touched, wondering if their first one’s landed in the dump and were they safely buried? Some of you know how revealing DOS can be.
In our world today, some keyboards would have top secret instructions…spy keyboards! In countries all over the world, keyboards with top level info and those processing our privacy…It would take it’s place as the top criminal activity and perhaps the last war on this planet.
The health risks of deciphering and listening to keyboards would take time to evaluate. The need for a steady hand and brain along with the need to stop the voice in your head would have some effect on drug sales world wide. It would have to be determined. Probably by a talking keyboard.
Lawyers would seek admissible keyboard evidence. Special monitors and desk tops would be created so everyone could see the keyboard spill the abc’s of a crime. Guilty by the default key. The “National Liar” would have a field day. Aliens might sue them for loss of interest and some Hollywood Stars.
Did Einstein have a keyboard? Think of the treasure and the secrets! Some boards would be priceless. I’m not going to talk about my keyboard. Who knows, the next program I download might have a trigger on it…a blab file for every keyboard hitting the…okay, it’s the mouse that does that. Heh! It’s the rat in the room! Watch out. Your talking keyboard might be one click away. So keep your keyboards clean. It might be your best protection.
P.S. Right now my board is under surveillance. If I disappear anytime soon, please look for me…or not. Let me know.