The sky above us right now is cloudy and the chance of snow for today is 100%!  I like the snow, I just don’t like to have to plow it.

What good is snow?

Well, for some it’s making snowmen and throwing snowballs.  For others it’s snowboarding and skiing.  Still others like to go snow shoeing and cross country skiing or snow snowmobiling.

Snow makes for easier spotting of game animals (except the white furred ones) and tracking them.  And for me, snow covers up that crystal clear ice on the lake and makes me more comfortable walking on it to go ice fishing.

Snow in the mountains makes for full lakes in the summer and plenty of drinking water.

On the down side, snow makes for slick roads, sore backs, broken bones and bumped heads.

Snow helps out those who have snow plowing business’ and those that sell ice melt type stuff.  And of course the snow playing equipment for the sports I mentioned above.

Snow also helps to sell wine and adult beverages and encourages us to light a fire in the fire place and prepare for a comfy evening without the tv on.

Snow covers up all the weeds that were left in the garden and the leaves that didn’t get raked up.

Snow means cold which drives up our heat bills.  Deep snow will crush in your portable car port or your patio awning.

Snow can cause your car or truck to get stuck.

Snow can help us out, snow can bring us down.

Snow will fall

Snow will stack

Snow will ball

Snow will pack

Snow can make you say Holy Cow

Man I hat it when I have to Plow!

Bears Butt

Dec. 7, 2013

ON THE WALL IT IS ETCHED A MAN WITH A SPEAR

AND A BIG RUNNING BEAST WITH HORNS AND ONE EAR

I THINK THAT IT MEANS HE BROUGHT HOME THE BEAST

TO HIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS SO THAT THEY COULD ALL FEAST

AND SO IT IS TRUE FOR ME ON THIS DAY

MY HUNT OF A LIFETIME, IT SEEMS, I MUST SAY

IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO GAIN OF THIS LUCK

I THINK I WILL HOLD OUT FOR A VERY BIG BUCK

A BUCK OF MY DREAMS TO HANG ON MY WALL

WITH ANTLERS IN WIDE INCHES, MANY POINTS AND REAL TALL

IT MAY ONLY TAKE MINUTES BUT IT MIGHT TAKE ME DAYS

BUT WHATEVER IT BE, I’LL TREASURE THE BEST AND HOPE THAT IT PAYS

AND IF IT DON’T HAPPEN AND I TAKE MY TAG HOME

AT LEAST I WAS OUT HERE AND ABLE TO ROAM

THE LURE OF THE MOUNTAINS AND ALL THE FRESH AIR

CAMPING AND HUNTING WITH ALL MY FRIENDS THERE

I KNOW I WILL SEE LOTS OF DEER, RABBITS AND BIRDS

AND MANY OTHER WILD BEASTS TRAVELING ALONE OR IN HERDS

FOR ME IT’S AN OUTING OF GREATEST OPPORTUNE

TO PURSUE A BIG MULY I HOPE TO SEE SOON

WHEN IT IS THE RIGHT ONE, THE ONE OF MY DREAM

MY DECISION WILL BE SWIFT AND MY SIGHTS WILL BE SEEN

THE ROAR OF MY CAP LOCK FIRING DOWN

SENDING MY BIG BUCK STRAIGHT TO THE GROUND

AND WHEN IT’S ALL OVER AND ALL THE CAMP PACKED

I’LL LOOK OVER THE MOUNTAINS AND SWEAR I’LL BE BACK

AND BACK AT MY HOME THE ANTLERS WILL HANG AND BE SEEN

FOR ALL MY CAVE FRIENDS TO WONDER WHAT IT ALL MEANS.

Bears Butt

November 15, 2012

NOT QUITE LIGHT ENOUGH TO SEE MY SIGHT

I’LL BE ON TOP BEFORE FIRST LIGHT

AND ON WE TRAVEL MY TRUCK AND ME

AND AT FIRST LIGHT A BUCK TO SEE

THE CHAINS ARE FILLED WITH ICE AND SNOW

BUT CLAW ON TO WHERE THE BIG BUCKS GO

BIG BUCKS LINGER FROM THE NIGHT FED

I WILL SEE THEM EARLY BEFORE THEY BED

THERE STANDS ONE AND BIG TO BOOT

JUST A WE BIT FAR FOR ME TO SHOOT

I MAKE A PLAN AND CLOSE THE GAP

AND HALF COCK MY MUZZ AND PLACE A CAP

THERE STANDS THE BUCK, IT’S BIG AND TALL

FULL COCK THE HAMMER AND LET IT FALL

THE RIFLE ROARS ITS BELCHING FIRE

SMOKE FILLS THE COLD AIR TO MY DESIRE

AND WHEN IT CLEARS I THANK GOD  IT’S DOWN

LOAD IT UP AND HEAD BACK TO TOWN

Bears Butt

August 27, 2012

Jon listen, turning 50 ain’t so bad

It beats being 80, just ask old dad

You have at least one good tooth

And can still sit in a corner booth

Your only half dead

With hair round the edges of your head

Heck I remember when I was your age

It seemed like just another page

When things start hurtin, as they will start to do

At least it was workin before the pain came to

You are just a young’un with an old persons face

So git on your bike and head out most haste

Time is a wastin, you ain’t got no strife

Be safe on your ride, and make sure you take your wife

She has put up with you over half of your days

And needs to help celebrate  your 50 birthdays

Bears Butt

June 19, 2012

We found this in with all the other stuff from the old house and I thought maybe you would like to see it too.  It is titled “Agricultural Courtship”.

Bears Butt Sept. 2011

A potato went out on a mash,

And sought an onion bed;

“That’s pie for me!” observed the

Squash,

And all the beets turned red;

“Go ‘way!” the onion, weeping,

Cried.

“Your love I cannot be;

The pumpkin be your lawful bride’

You cantelope with me.”

But onward still the tuber came,

And laid down at her feet;

“You cauliflower by any name,

And it will smell as wheat;

And I, too, am an early rose;

And you I’ve come to see;

So don’t turn up your lovely nose,

But spinachat with me!”

“I do not carrot all to wed,

So go, sir, if you please!”

The modest onion meekly said,

“And lettuce, pray, have peas!

Go, think that you have never

Seen

Myself, or smelled my sigh;

Too long a maiden I have been

For favors in your rye!”

“Ah, spare the cuss!” the tuber

Prayed;

“My cherryshed bride you’ll be!

You are the only weeping maid

That’s currant now with me!”

And as the wily tuber spoke,

He cought her by surprise,

And giving her an artichoke.

Devoured her with his eyes.

Unknown author

Mountain men afore trapped beaver by the score

And risked their own hides in the slews

For the bounty of the plews.

The beaver did what normal came

And chewed the twigs and cane

To feast upon it’s bark,

When all the world was cold and dark.

So to you the luck of this here stick

That one such beaver fell

May your camp be well and never sick

And your game pole always full.

Bears Butt

2006

Prelude to the read:  I like a good old pickled pigs foot on occation.  Especially when on a muzz hunt.  So, I got to figurin I aint never read no poem about pickled pigs feet.  So in honor of them, here is what I dun put tagither for you to enjoy.  Read on.

_______________________________________________

For it has been said that God gave us cloven hoof animals to eat

And none so finer than that of the pig, that has meat so sweet

And if we look closer, we find it all but the squeal to goes

For what one finds good, another finds gooder, while others may turn up a nose

A hog lives in a trite situation.  A stinky pen in which it survives from day to day

It eats what is given and seems to love to wallow in the play

With feces to it’s knees and a stench that rivals all smells

Even the buzzards circle high above the dell

But when it comes to the table, the pig meat is sweet

And everyone enjoys to feast on the meat

Be it ham or chops or tripe or tongue

There is a pig part for everyone

Even the skin round the sausage comes from a pig deep within

It’s cleaned and prepared with care, then stuffed with meat chagrin

These tasty morsels of pork parts and fat, all ground up and mixed

Forced into the round skin tube for to fix

Then tied off and cut, and made ready to cook

With hashbrowns and eggs, it’s hard not to look

Let’s now dissect a pig in our mind

Once killed and cleaned and washed, it’s just fine

We skin it and cut it in parts we define

From the back to the front, including the spine

In the rear there is ham, yum yummy smoked ham

Some like it sliced, some like it boiled with beans or eaten with jam

Then come the chops, thick juicy pork chops

Fry them, or bake them, your choice, it’s your shop

The ribs are the next, they can be boiled or baked

Cooked on the grill in singles or racked

The sauce put upon them makes my mouth water

And the taste of those ribs, m-m-m-m, oh mother

Shoulder roasts, for bar-be-qued pork

A sandwich of, makes me grin like a dork

I love the great taste and it’s messy and able

Salad and chips and cold beer make the table

But the BEST of the pig is not high on the carcass

Nor in the rear or the back or inside the cadaver

But lower, much lower, below the knees

There are four of these

It’s the feet of these swine,

That taste so devine

When fixed up just proper,

There isn’t much that can stop her

The pigs feet when they’re boiled, opens up a tang

And when sealed up with vinegar it brings out the bang

Once cooled the gel sets and permeates the core

Making pickled pigs feet lovers just plain roar

They go good by themselves, better when shared

Or while riding the trail with those who have dared

A good old PIGS FOOT, straight out of the jar

With gelatin drippin and the sweet smell of sour

It just don’t get no better, I’m telling the truth

Than a pig foot knuckle tucked under a tooth

Or the vapor of vinegar wafting your nose

That gets me going like good old PIG TOES

Bears Butt

(All rights reserved, 2006)

A little background first:  Many Steps, Dry Dog and I went on a turkey hunt in May 2011, it was Dry Dogs first real turkey hunt.  We were all using our blackpowder shotguns to take our birds.  This poem was written by myself the night prior to our hunt and it ended with a big bird going to turkey heaven.  After the hunt Many Steps altered the ending to reflect the “real story”…Enjoy!

SPRING GOBBLER

What’s that I hear upon my ear?  The closing of a door?

It’s too dark to see, my sleep is broken, this day is on for sure.

I sense the air is brisk and clean, no rain, no wind , just spring .

The sky is getting lighter in the East, a sure sign tis near time to feast.

Was that a thump I heard below?  A deer?  A buck?  A Doe?

It matters not this time of day, I’m sitting high above.  I have no worries I’m just waking like a dove.

Ah!  The sounds of morning are filling the air.  The hoot owl calls from his lair.

A distant crow, a nearby pheasant.  Spring is just so very pleasant.

Again I see the Eastern sky is begging for the sun to come.   Another day like yesterday and all my work will be done.

My ladies are around me.  Just waking,  calling soft.  It’s such a pleasant place I live in, not a barn and not a loft.

The tall tree I call my  roost is all I really need.  It gives me safety while I sleep and keeps me safe indeed.

Again a thump, a broken branch!  I’m sure I heard this time.  Oh well, it’s just morning and time for me to chime.

I gobble out a good long call.  To wake my ladies one and all.

They purr and cackle at my voice.  They love it when I sound such rejoice.

The sky is brighter in the East.  I can see the ground now, it’s almost time to eat.

I’m so hungry from a night of sleeping.  I hope to find some grasshoppers leaping.

A bug, just any bug.  Fresh green grass or even a slug.

The ladies are all awake!  I’ll give another gobble just to let them know I’m on the take.

They all love me, this I know.  Especially that one there, just  waking  on the branch below.

Woops!  There she goes!  Flapping down to the fresh green grass.  I’d better follow before she goes over the pass.

The glide down is refreshing.  Through the branches and the limbs.  Another great spring day  begins.

What’s that I see?  Just over there!  Not another Gobbler!  Not on my hen!  I’ll kick his butt!  You dirty bird!

Now why are these two standing so still? Would they flinch if I gave a shrill? Oh well, I guess I’ll have my meal.

I’m scratching and pecking, eating these delicious bugs when suddenly I hear a sound I’ve never heard before.

Not a breaking branch, I know this for sure. Could it be a human child’s toy? Maybe something for a boy?

I look towards the sound only to see the ugliest bush in all creation suddenly move, and pop goes that sound again.

I don’t know what it was, and I don’t care. I’m getting outta here, and warning all the others, “DON’T GO OVER THERE!”

Co-Authored by Bears Butt and Many Steps

May 2011