by Cowboy Bob Sorensen Go down the short hallway, past the bathroom, through the open door of the bedroom. Look behind the door. You see several things such as mostly unused crutches from my knee surgery, a clothes drying rack, two 3-drawer plastic storage units, and more. On top of a storage unit are a pair of pants, a shirt, and shoes. Unpretentious clothes. Charlene had efficiently laid them out so she could use them when she returned from her surgery. She is not coming back for them. Ever. This is being posted four weeks from the day she passed away. My beloved wife's clothes are waiting in vain for her return Most everyone has heard it said that we are not guaranteed tomorrow. In her case, she did not finish "today," the day of her surgery, when she was stricken. In the midst of my bitter tears, I know that she was a child of the living God. When the angel came to escort her to Jesus, Charlene must have been thrilled to be free of a life that had so much physical an...
As I was leaving town, riding east out Folly Road, I came across with Rusty Swingset, foreman of the Darwin Ranch up near Deception Pass. He was with Jacqueline Hyde (who was not really herself that day). We met near Stinking Lake. It was a nice day so we stopped and made chin music for a spell. Sometimes Rusty can be hard to like, and he was a mite on the prod that day. I mentioned having seen a bounty hunter bringing in a bad guy. This jasper was a real animal, and I said so. Tiger, Pixabay / Felix Schweitz (I like tigers) "Was it Randall that brought in that guy?" asked Swingset. "Nope, it was a different fellow. Didn't hear his name," I replied. "You said the baddie's an animal. Well, Charles Darwin was right, we're all animals." "Not true," I said. Rusty squinted at me and adjusted his hat while Jacqueline looked bored. "Study on this. We're warm blooded, females give milk, breathe air, eat, and all sorts of things lik...