Vacation Log: Fishing With Grandmom and Grandpop

While we were in Pa, we spent several nights fishing with Grandmom and Grandpop (my parents).

The boys took turns catching Blue Gills, Large Mouth Bass, muddy sticks, and tree branches (just to keep things lively).  It got pretty hectic at times. 

I found myself giving impromptu lessons on taking the hook out, casting sideways, changing the bait, and moving slowly.  Lol!

My parents brought their chairs up to the pond so we could visit while we fished.  That was nice, especially since my dad’s health has been shaky this year.  It was nice to see him getting around a little better.

I couldn’t help remembering the countless hours I spent fishing here as a little girl.  My brother taught me early on that if you caught it, you were expected to take it off the hook.

There were five years between my brother and me, so I reckon he had more patience than most.  But unless a fish really swallowed the hook, I was pretty much on my own.

I’ll never forget one time I really needed him.

It was a warm summer day and I had gone up to the pond to fish with what would later become my sister-in-law (his wife).  I’m not sure how old we were.  I’m guessing around 12. 

We each had a pole, and took along a baggie of cut-up hot dog to share for bait.  We settled down on the edge of the old wooden dock to relax and talk. 

I’m not sure who caught the fish.  But as was our habit, we swung the fish over to the bank where we could manage the hook easier.

All at once, we saw a streak of grey.  In the blink of an eye, my cat Sweetie had claimed the little Blue Gill as her own, including the hook!  With a soulful meow that was half growl, she began shaking her head and pulling on the line for all she was worth.

Horrified, we dashed to pin her down (no easy feat) and see what we could do.  With claws a-flying, the fish a-flapping, and me pretty much in a panic, we realized in no time that we needed help.

We called down to my brother who was walking across the yard, beyond the pasture.

“Dan, (not his real name) come quick!  We need your help!”

“Whaaat?!”  He said, in that half annoyed tone used only for me.  He didn’t even pause his step.

“We caught the cat on the hook!”

With an overhead gesture of throwing a ball, he yelled, “Throw it in the tub and I’ll take care of it later.”  He kept on walking.  The tub was a real tub sunk into the ground and fed with water from the pond’s outlet.  We used it to water the steers on the other side of the fence.

Realizing he misunderstood, we clarified.  “Not a cat FISH, a CAT!!!”

To my utter frustration and annoyance, he burst out laughing.  He laughed all the way up to the pond and could barely get a hold of himself to do the job.  If I hadn’t needed his help so badly, I would have clobbered him.  That’s a brother for you.

Yes, we all enjoyed fishing.  And telling stories.  The two go hand-in-hand.  Someday, my boys will no doubt laugh over the trees and murky sticks they caught, as we now laugh over that cat.  And my little guy will remind everyone that he caught the biggest fish.

Today’s summer fun and family times are tomorrow’s memories.  I’m so glad we added to the treasure chest of stories to be dragged out at the next family gathering.  I’m also pretty tickled that no cat was hurt in the making of the memories!!

I’m sharing this story with friends from PhotoStory Friday, Thankful Thursday, and A Thousand Word Thursday.  I hope you’ll join in the fun and share something with us!