These old hands of mine are warped out of line from too many days as a cow man. There were days that were freezing. My fingers were numb while pulling a calf with no gloves on.
\nMy fingers were broke from breaking those colts. I wonder, is there an easier way, to get them from birth to horse with some worth, has never changed in my day.
\nAs I notice one finger is crooked, swollen and more painful than the others. But it works quite well for picking your nose, cuz it gets around those corners.
\nWhile sitting in my best old chair with my grandson at my side, he gave those fingers a good, hard squeeze. I left that old seat to hide.
\nSo what happened next I should expect from an innocent little guy. He inspected my grips with his intense little looks and said I think you\u2019re going to die.
\nI gave him a hug as Grandpa\u2019s will do and informed him his fingers might be that way too. His only reply was a definite sigh and a prominent out loud eeeww!
\nI remember the day when my Grandma would say how her fingers and hands were so sore. I was ten years old, even then feeling bold, now later a total of four score.
\nI\u2019ve had my butt in the saddle all day with fingers gripping the horn. Then tossing that rope with purpose and hope of a catch to that almost new born.
\nNow some would say that gloves today will keep your hands brand new. You\u2019ll tug them on and right back off. I know which one I\u2019ll choose.
\nSo if this life has caused my hands strife, I wouldn\u2019t of had it another way. Cuz the cowboy in me is the first thing you see. Yes I\u2019m proud of these hands you could say.<\/p>\n
_ Bryce Angell<\/p>\n
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\u2013 Bryce Angell<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
These old hands of mine are warped out of line from too many days as a cow man. There were days that were freezing. My fingers were numb while pulling a calf with no gloves on. My fingers were broke from breaking those colts. I wonder, is there an easier way, to get them from […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":479,"featured_media":20768,"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-23212","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-cowboy-poetry","8":"category-commentary"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23212","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\/479"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=23212"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23212\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23213,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23212\/revisions\/23213"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/20768"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=23212"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=23212"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=23212"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}