Last Call

Here I stand in the far corner of the pasture, yet I can still smell that familiar aroma. Billowing out of those hooded grills up by the houses is smoke - lots of mesquite smoke, and it's waftin' along the trees to my cool and shady corner. I love it and I hate it. I love it because it gits me thinkin' back on when I was in Texas, where everyone around had the smoke pits fired up cookin' Bar-B-Q, over mesquite. I hate it because it gits me thinkin' back on those great mesquite beans that I dearly love and surely miss.

I had a lotta good times in Texas, and mesquite was plentiful. It grew wild in our pasture and it was tough to keep it from spreadin' all over the place, but we helped keep it in check by eatin' those long, thin bean pods that grew on 'em - one of my favorite things. That and the soft green river algae that grew in the shallow water beside the sand bar, which was great to slurp up on a hot day.

I smell it again… what a waste of good trees that could be puttin' out some beans. I know I asked for y'all to send some beans last year, but I heard it had been too hot and dry for even the mesquite, and there just weren't any around. Just in case I waited too long to ask, I am askin' earlier this year, and I won't pester again - this is last call - if y'all wanna send a present to your good ol' buddy P-pot, send me some mesquite beans that might be startin' to dry up. I know you won't miss 'em, and I sure would appreciate it.

On toppa old smokey, all covered with food
I lost my mesquite trees to cooks who burn wood.
I'm down in the valley, and all I can see
Is back yards all smokey, with no mesquite trees.
I sure miss ol' Texas, where mesquite beans hang free,
And horses can eat 'em, as much as they please.
So crunchy and tasty, and just within reach,
With grass at my hooftips, I'd eat some of each.
I'll never forget 'em, as long as I roam,
My favorite mesquite beans, reminders of home.

Happy trails to y'all.
P-pot

 

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