By Slim Randles

“Kids got the kites up this morning down at the schoolyard,” Dud said, slipping into his chair and flipping his coffee mug to the upright and fillable position in one smooth move.

Doc nodded and spread jam on his toast. He likes grape.

“Any special shapes this year?”

“Didn’t see any,” Dud said. “Same old diamond shapes, mostly.”

“Now back when I was a kid,” Herb chimed in, “we had box kites, too. Sometimes…”

Doc grinned. “Never could make one of them. Too complicated. Just got those diamond ones, because they came almost ready to fly.”

“Saw on TV the other day,” Dud said, “they got these kites over in China that look like dragons. Real long boogers, you know. Wonder how they get those things in the air.”

“Ever notice how you never see anyone on TV flying kites in Iceland?” Steve said. Steve has never been to Iceland, but he’d sure like to go. He reads up on it. A lot. “Wind blows over there in Iceland all the time.”

“I heard that, too,” Dud said.

“It might be,” said Doc, “that people in Iceland are too busy working to fly kites.”

“Could be that,” Steve agreed. “Do you realize there aren’t any dinosaur fossils in Iceland?”

He waited. No one asked.

“The reason for that,” he said, “is that the dinosaurs died off before Iceland was born.”

Loretta came by with the coffee pot. “How you boys doing today?”

“Better than the folks in Iceland, I guess,” Steve said. “Doc says they have to work all the time.”

Having coffee at the Mule Barn on any given morning can be an unusual educational experience.

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Brought to you by Packing the Backyard Horse by Slim Randles Available on Amazon.com.