Sunday, oh glorious Sunday

I woke up with eggs Benny on mah mind. And guess what, sweet sweet Bonnie, the cook at the camp I'm in, just so happens to be whipping up some hollandaise sauce as I walk into the kitchen. For some reason I felt it a good idea to get up at 7am, that reason my friends twas the hope of Bennys. You see I felt so bold as to make the request this morning for some, but Bonnie already new what this day needed.

So I'm sitting down to my Bennys and a nice glass o milk. 1% of course. Minding my own Benny, and some rig fella strolls into the kitchen. I had noticed him sleepin on the couch in the common room as I so boldly braved the early hours, and thought to myself, who is this riff raff? Turns out hes a truck driver. Got his truck stuck at 3am this morning he did. Hadn't planned on staying the night, but had no other choice. He made the kilometer trek down the soaking mud hill back to our camp, and rather than disrupt anyone to inquire about a room, he crashed on the couch. So I'm minding my Benny and hes jammin on about how he got stuck, and I'm all like, "Fool, get in on these Bennys!" and not really listening to what hes saying. Hes timidly asking all these roughnecks if he can catch a ride, no one responds. Some because they are knee deep in hollandaise, some because they are jerks, or both. He then realizes we are all Benny Jerks, and poses the question, "Ill be safe walking back up right? Not like there are bears out here." False. Plenty o bears round here. Griz and black alike. Seen em wit my own eyes I did. And if there is anything that can pull a man out of some sweet Benny love, tis the thought of a bear enjoying a man as much as a man enjoys some Bennys.

I finish the first of my three Bennys and say, "Pardner, you best be hopin in my ride, ain't gonna see no stinking bear enjoy some Man-Benny on my watch" I kiss my two remaining Bennys goodbye, and escort the fella to his truck.

Its mighty slippery outside, a lesser man would likely have gotten stuck and eaten alive. Good thing that ain't me. I drop the guy off. He is kind folk, something you don't come by too often in the Patch. He was worried about dirtying my truck. I was worried about not eating my Bennys.

I head back to camp, get inside and see Bonnie puttin whats left of the warm hollandaise sauce on my lonely Bennys, bless her soul. "Your steak got cold last night while you were helping the roughneck with his smashed hand, and there was nothing I could do about it. If a man tells me he wants his steak medium rare, I ain't throwin it back on the fire. But I'll be damned if I'll let some Bennys go cold on my watch." Bonnie smiles. Bless her soul she's a fine cook, and finer woman. Oh boy, did I enjoy them Bennys, another glass o' 1% and back to bed I went.


I woke up with football on mah mind. You see when a man is away from home, his mind wonders, he needs to bring it back to the ranch for some rest and cleanin. Today is that day. I sent word back to my homestead with the predictions and wagers on this weeks games. Trusty Stevesy went and placed the order. Watching some pre game with some o' Bonnie's coffee, I hear tell that Stevesy done gone and mixed up our order. "Damnit Stevesy!" I curse, "are you on the Drug?!" Turns out, well you know Stevesy. Bless his little head, I can't stay mad at him, and who knows, maybe one man's folly is another man's gain.

Half time comes around and the only thing going mah way is the coffee. I want to curse that little fools name again, but my mind goes back to the kind trucker fella, and I know Stevesy woulda helped him out too, sure as rain.

What's this Stevesy accidental blunder turns a 21-3 point half time deficit, into a victory, sure does. Boy did I laugh, slapped my knee I did. More than once too. Turns out I made the blunder, damn Buffalo heard had a nice lead on some Bengal cats, but slowed up and got taken alive. And whose idea was it to pick the Buffalo? Yours truly.

I send word to Stevesy, laughing bout the lost cattle and coin, and I joke, "gosh, too bad I had to go and mess up them Buffalo, and you had to mess up the Saints I hired. Don't know how I'mma tell the little ones they'll be no Turducken this year."
Stevesy is quite, and then begins to laugh. Turns out he messed it up nice. No wager was placed on the Buffalo! We might hit gold yet!

Afternoon rolls around. Bonnie whips up some fine Chili for a fine Sunday. "Smells like touchdowns" I say as I walk back to the ol' tele tube. Things are lookin good. One half left to play and just need one more team to come back from 3 down. The unfortunate part is, that team is led by Ellie Manning, the town bicycle. Oh she's been round, sometimes she gets yah there, and sometimes, well best not talk about that in front of the little ones.

Things aint looking good. She's dropping more balls then, oh damn, there I go again.
4 minutes left. 10 points back. Need some help. See we are relying on this gold for our Friendsgiving Turducken feast. I'd be damned if we aint stuffin a turkey with a duck and some chicken covered in bacon this year. The little ones would be so sad. Ain't seeing that. I ain't a God fearin man, but that don't mean we ain't close.

I get on my knees, sweat dripping of my brow, and start gabbin with man upstairs. Its a pleasant chat. I ask if he's ever had Turducken, turns out he ain't, same as me. We finish out chat, and well what do you know Ellie has gotten the game to within 3. Two minutes left, and her older brothas step up. Seems them red shirts they playin against said something awful mean bout lil Ellie. They go and get the ball back for her, yes they did. And they weren't kind bout it neither. Sure nough Ellie gets the job done, with not a lick o' time to spare.

Turducken for all! The Sheppard above has brought the flock in to feed. And what a bountiful harvest she is.

In my joy I am reminded of the kind fella and the last thing he said to me as I dropped him off, "Thank you for your help stranger, hope them Bennys ain't to cold upon your safe return. Bless yah."

Sure hope Bonnie can make it to the feast, I reckon she'd love her self some sweet sweet Turducken.

G'night y'all.