Author: Slim Randles

The problem was Mrs. Doc, you see. Oh, don’t misunderstand. She’s a perfectly wonderful lady and we all think the world of her, and as far as we know she has yet to burn down a house or start a war or anything. . . Read More

It began the way most miracles do: by accident or the hand of God, take your pick. It might have been the weather, at least partly. For December, the day had been almost balmy and warm. . . Read More

Dewey Decker, that accident-prone neighbor of ours, is the undisputed Pharoah of Fertilizer, the Monarch of Manure. He has turned a shovel-ready business into a going concern, with the help of the woman of his dreams, Emily. . . Read More

Dewey Decker showed his new business cards to the other guys at the Mule Barn Truck Stop’s philosophy counter, and each member of the world dilemma think tank got to keep one. . . Read More

Mrs. Forrest has always been a compulsive feeder. Before she retired, she was cooking for the Mule Barn truck stop’s customers, and is singularly responsible for about three flabby tons of avoirdupois on this nation’s truck drivers, and may have . . . Read More

I was studying my card when the guys walked in for coffee. “What did you get?” asked Doc. “D-24.” “Just one?” “Yeah. The boys caught me when I was kinda short, so I only got the one this year.” . . Read More

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“Sanctimonious siphons, it’s hot!” said Dud, sitting at the philosophy counter and turning over his coffee cup for action with a single smooth move. Dud is a regular at the Mule Barn truck stop’s legendary world dilemma think tank. . . Read More

Mrs. Doc watched the dancers swirl around the cleared hardwood floor of the Legion hall, and smiled to see her husband, Doc, waltzing with Ardis Fisher. But Mrs. Doc was never one to sit out a waltz, so she looked around at the menu. . . Read More

The annual Fourth of July picnic is a celebration of time and freedom. We’d all watched the parade, earlier, because that’s what you do on the Fourth, and we believe in it. . . Read More

Steve looked out from the turret of his cabin and watched the sun set behind the mountain. Branding is over for the spring, and he was able to get away from the ranch for a few days, so here he was, in his private castle, sipping private coffee, looking . . . Read More

Steve reached up and put his cup of coffee on the floor of the turret in his cabin, then climbed the ladder until both he and the coffee were comfortable, looking out at the world. . . Read More

Billy slowly raised one eyelid and looked around. Boots and Desdemona, Aunt Ada’s cats, were curled up, one against his belly and one against his back. Billy hated to wake the cats, but when a guy has to go find a tree, well, call it collateral damage. . . . Read More

Windy’s pickup truck was the third one to arrive at the scene of the fender bender. Both cars pretty well plugged up the road, and once it was determined no one was hurt, and the police had been called, Windy surveyed the situation. . . Read More

Marjorie Pincus looked out the front window at her husband, Marvin, and smiled. No matter how old he gets, she thought, he’ll always be the boy I remember, riding his bicycle through this town so many years ago. . . Read More

Windy Wilson was cruising around the other day, in search of an audience, but the cold drove him indoors…at the elementary school cafeteria. “What’s that you say? Coldest you ever been? . . Read More

Well, the first archery tournament to raise money to buy warm clothes for some of the local kids is now in the history books, and it would have to be considered a success. . . Read More

Well, it’s Fall and time once again for Doc’s annual golf tournament to raise money for kids’ winter clothes. But the recent heavy rains have kinda wiped out his “golf course” on two adjoining farms and a patch of woods. . . Read More

There’s something so satisfying about getting out of bed when the world is still dark and quiet and resting. Making the coffee gives us time to scratch and think. Well, scratch, anyway. . . Read More

In honor of his entirely fictional pet squirrel, Doc is calling the annual golf tournament the Chipper Invitational this year. He’s thinking of making that a permanent name for his invention, the most unusual golf tournament in history. . . Read More

It was Thursday again. Mabel Adams asked at the desk to be sure. “Thursday all day, Mabel,” the girl said. “Don’t forget to get your hair done today. Two o’clock … right?” . . Read More

It was lunchtime at the sale barn on the edge of town and the guys were milling around. They didn’t really want to eat there, as the regular cook had a family emergency in the next state, so it was a substitute named Leroy and the guys knew that . . . Read More

“Bert looks good this morning, Doc,” Dud said, quietly. Three stools down the counter, Bert smiled and said, “Yes, I certainly do!” We turned toward our old pal. “You heard that?” . . Read More

Days like this, said Doc, a guy has to get out and get his yard work done early, before it gets too hot. “So when does it get too hot, Doc?” . . Read More

We all watched as the flag came by. It was the first thing in the parade, of course. Great big one, carried by two of the kids from the ROTC at the high school. . . Read More