A Few Words From the Porch

Morning, friend.

It's early here. The sun's just coming up, the coffee's hot, and Deputy has claimed my lap like he pays the rent.

I wanted to write you something different today. No storms, no plague, no plans. Just a few words between neighbors.

This week, a good many of you signed up for these letters. I'll be honest, I didn't expect that. June, my wife, caught me reading through the list of new folks at the kitchen table and asked if I planned on getting any work done today. I told her this was the work.

So thank you. For trusting an old lawman with a spot in your inbox. I don't take that lightly.

Here's how this will go. On Wednesdays, I'll send you something practical. One problem, and a plain plan for handling it. On Sundays, it'll be more like this. Coffee on the porch, and whatever's on my mind.

Here's what's on my mind this week.

The grandkids called last night. The littlest one asked what I do all day now that I'm retired. I told her I sit on the porch and worry about everybody.

She said, "That sounds like a job, Grandpa."

She's not wrong. I spent over forty years looking out for folks. You don't just switch that off. These letters are that same old habit, put down on paper.

I'm putting together a guide for families. Something you can print out, keep in a drawer, and pull out when it counts. I've got two ideas, and I'd like you to pick.

The Family Emergency Plan. Every phone number, medicine, meeting place and checklist your family needs, all in one place, filled in by you.

The Home Security Plan. How to make your home harder to break into, from doors and windows to lights and locks, and what to do if someone ever tries.

Just tap the one you'd pick. That's all it takes. And if you'd like to tell me why, hit reply. I read every one, and June says I'm not allowed to argue with the results.

Enjoy your Sunday. Call somebody you love.

— Cole

P.S. Deputy says hello. He's asleep, but he'd say it if he weren't.