‘Twas well into the season, and throughout the lands
The trappers were skinning, and saving the glands.
The pelts were all strung in the fur shed to dry,
In hope that the prices will not make us cry.

And the buyer was due in a couple of days.
But the forecasted prices are down quite a ways.
I couldn’t stop trapping; it just can’t be done.
It’s just who I am; it’s part of life’s fun.

So I guess I am doomed, I assume it’s all fate,
That I’m addicted to trapping, it’s probly too late
To escape from the game; to find something new
That doesn’t waste money, some work I could do.

I’m caught up with skinning, and stretching the pelts
But it’s too late for dinner so I’ll hitch up my belt.
And try to find sleep, I’m really done in,
And get ready for checking the line once again.

When the season is over, fur no longer prime,
I’ll catch up on rest, and I’ll find the time
To clean up the truck, even kiss the good wife,
I may find the time, to sharpen my knife.

Once the season is over (if I’m not in jail)
I’ll sit in my office, catch up on the mail,
And I’ll finally have time for Tman on screen,
And read all the news from the political scene.

But Paul has said no political tripe,
And he won’t let us cuss there, or politically gripe.
And we’ve seen what will happen if we break the rules
Vacations like Coonman’s or a few other fools.

So we toe the line for better or worse;
Cross our fingers we’ll not get caught when we curse.
And pretty easy to learn something new every day
If we spend time on Tman, and not lose our way.

We can admire the phenomenal Miss Sharon’s art,
Or read of dead whitetails, shot in the heart.
We can learn different ways to trap mister mink,
Ways to get mister skunk to never again stink.

We can learn like a nail, to be nasty and mean,
Or just pretend to be nasty, like white17.
We can gain some new friends, try not to be vile,
Or learn some new words, like a brand new vechile.

Or enjoy the wisdom of those in the know,
Or at least they think wisdom (like Mr Boco).
And 330-trapper will probably weigh in,
With good information, or at least positive spin.

And we can not forget that there’s others out there,
That if they’re not mentioned in this poem somewhere,
Might be a bit miffed, so we mention them too,
Nessy, Aix, Osky, and Catch22.

So another year is gone by the way,
And the Trapperman family has not lost its way.
It’s good-natured ribbing, for big ones and small,
Merry Christmas and New Years, to one and to all!

Jack

My dear friend, Jack.

You bring a smile to me...even amidst tears...all good, all love.

If a world could be had, where only mountains and rivers and the ones we love are there, you would be my neighbor.

Along with the celebration of life in Rye, er, Wry humour included.

May the sun shine down upon you. All your days. The wind be at your back.

The northern lights dance at your bidding as you travel your trails in the deep winter nights...your vechile always clean, always full of fuel .

The mountains rise to the heavens as you fly over them, forever.

And your friends and loved ones, forever loving you.

Awesome

Pretty cool, a lot thought went into that.

Very cool

Jack is a person of many talents. Too numerous to list. Very nice poem!!

Thanks for the smile.

Nice

Nicely done Gulo.

That was great Gulo!

Very nice!

Very well done indeed!

I'm reminded by a David Allan Coe song where a buddy wrote a song and he said it wasn't perfect because he left things out. So I will say other then you left me out of your Christmas poem, it's almost perfect. , great job!

Catch - You're absolutely right. I better get busy and add a verse. It doesn't really capture the essence of the Tman Tribe without you mentioned.

Very nice

Very nicely done my friend.

Dang Jack...that was a hoot to read. Just about covered all the going ons ...here at TMan.

This is a great place with all its parts....

Merry Christmas to all !

Gulo that is outstanding what a fine job you did