{"id":21439,"date":"2024-09-18T00:17:35","date_gmt":"2024-09-18T06:17:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/?p=21439"},"modified":"2024-09-16T14:18:30","modified_gmt":"2024-09-16T20:18:30","slug":"bellies-buckets-and-blazes","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/2024\/09\/18\/bellies-buckets-and-blazes\/","title":{"rendered":"Bellies, Buckets, and Blazes"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"
Bryce Angell – The outdoors has always been a large part of my life. My father was an outfitter and guide for 35 years and I was there to shoe and care for the horses and help him do the cooking. We took many great trips into the Yellowstone area. Even now that I\u2019m older, we still ride into the Tetons, Yellowstone and surrounding areas. My poems are mostly of personal experience. I am now retired and enjoying life to the fullest. I plan to do more riding and writing.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The cows and calves were tossed some hay. His brother\u2019s horse was fed. The chicken coop gave up twelve eggs while he thumped the rooster\u2019s head.<\/p>\n

The morning chores were finished. He had breakfast with his wife. Three fried eggs and buttered toast, the same breakfast most of his life.<\/p>\n

Then to a quiet morning with his cup filled to the brim, he reflected on the little things that meant the most to him.<\/p>\n

His tomatoes had escaped their fate from early frost last night. They were underneath a blanket staying red and juicy ripe,<\/p>\n

In the distance he could hear a flock of hungry honking geese. Today those moments filled him with a quiet sense of peace.<\/p>\n

But his peaceful, tranquil morning was about to turn to dire. Somewhere in the distance a shrieking voice was screaming, fire!<\/p>\n

He stood up to attention. Took a whiff to smell some smoke. Then crossed his fingers and his toes and hoped it was a joke.<\/p>\n

Then he saw the smoke come rolling from the barn up to the sky. He\u2019d paid his fire insurance and now he knew the reason why.<\/p>\n

When the hay barn catches fire and the tractor\u2019s still inside, there ain\u2019t no time to dawdle or your Massey will be fried.<\/p>\n

He grabbed an orange bucket, the first one he could find. And he prayed the ditch had\u00a0 <\/span>water. He was racing, running blind.<\/p>\n

He found some water in the ditch and filled his bucket full. Then couldn\u2019t help but notice he\u2019d grabbed a bucket with a hole.<\/p>\n

He poured his half-full bucket on the tractor and the fire. Could he invent a better way? He sure weren\u2019t no MacGyver.<\/p>\n

By now he had no energy and completely out of breath. The spare tire around his middle might just be his early death.<\/p>\n

A good friend told him years ago, \u201cYour gut ain\u2019t no disgrace. It helps you look much younger, pulls the wrinkles from your face.\u201d<\/p>\n

A fire truck sped on past him and they promptly doused the blaze. Being out of breath and dizzy he was standing in a haze.<\/p>\n

The firemen gave him 02 and they brought him back to worth. He thanked the men and promised that he\u2019d rid his extra girth.<\/p>\n

His proud wife baked a chocolate cake. He could eat with every meal. And the devil on his shoulder said, \u201cGo ahead, it\u2019s no big deal.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2014 Bryce Angell<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The cows and calves were tossed some hay. His brother\u2019s horse was fed. The chicken coop gave up twelve eggs while he thumped the rooster\u2019s head. The morning chores were finished. He had breakfast with his wife. Three fried eggs and buttered toast, the same breakfast most of his life. Then to a quiet morning […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","_pvb_checkbox_block_on_post":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[160,2],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-21439","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-cowboy-poetry","7":"category-commentary"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21439","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=21439"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21439\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":21440,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21439\/revisions\/21440"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21439"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21439"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21439"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}