Brother and His Coffee

About six years ago I was in the Palo Duro Canyon in Texas. Every year, at the 5R Ranch, we would set up camp the Sunday after Thanksgiving and stay three weeks, give or take a couple of days. It would always be cold, and a calm day would have twenty-five-mile-per-hour winds. This particular gathering brought a new character into camp by the name of Brother Daniel, a cowboy by trade and by birth. He was a simple feller who didn’t speak too many words, except to his dogs and horses.

Brother would set his teepee up pretty close to the wagon and me. He said it was so he could hear the coffee pot in the morning. Brother did like his coffee. He would go to bed around 7 p.m. and be waiting for me to build a fire the next morning at about 3 a.m. Now according to camp etiquette and the cowboy code, no one should come into the cook’s kitchen unless they are invited — especially if it is early in the morning. But for Brother that was two hours too late!

At about 2 a.m., I would hear Brother a fussin’ and cussin’ at Jo Jo and Pete, his two dogs who were his roommates, telling them to quit growling and not to crowd him so bad. As soon as I would get a lantern light burning, I could hear his teepee unzip and those spurs jingling. Now I like to have a little quiet time in the morning, and the first time I heard Brother heading my way, I turned the lantern out. Brother would nearly get to the wagon, and when the light went out, he would head back toward his teepee. I would hear the zipper go up, and he’d say, “Go back to sleep, you two. It ain’t ready yet.”

Well, this went on for three or four more times, until I finally gave in and turned the lantern up bright. When Brother came in, he said, “You need to work on that lantern, Cookie, I can maybe fix it so it will stay on if you’ll let me.” I just chuckled to myself and told him, “I think I got it going.”

Brother and I shared many a cup of coffee warmed by Bertha and many a story over those long, cold three weeks. He told me about the ranches he’d been on in Montana and Nevada and all the different country he’d seen up north. He described the horse wrecks he’d been in and when he broke his ankle bad enough that the bone was sticking plumb through the skin. We never talked much about women, because the biggest loves in Brother’s life were his dogs and cats. A simple feller he was and that’s why he touched my heart the way he did. Brother had all he needed: a teepee, a warm bedroll, two sleeping roommates, and a lantern.

I sometimes forget, on occasion, the simple things in life. To me the things folks take for granted mean the most. When you don’t have modern conveniences like electricity and running water, you get by, and sometimes, you get by even better. The world we live in today is sure enough in a hurry, and you can get run over every day if you’re not careful.

So take some advice from Brother and me: Slow down when you can, appreciate what you have, and savor the moment just like a good cup of coffee.