Sometimes we would fish with worms if Japan and I had managed to get out and catch any. I never liked attaching a real worm to a hook, but Grandpa didn’t mind. Most of the time Japan would come too and it would just be the three of us. Community is about two hundred yards long and maybe sixty of seventy yards wide. Japan thought it was fun to prove that he could cast all the way across the lake. Grandpa would get pretty annoyed with that, telling him that catching weeds isn’t the same as catching fish. Sometimes a little wind would pick up and blow my line over the top of Grandpa’s. He would gripe under his breath as he carefully reeled the lines in, but he never directed those comments at me.
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I don’t ever remember going up to the lake and not catching any fish although we probably did. Grandpa taught me to clean the fish and then he would either send them home with me or put them in the smoker. Grandpa made the best smoked trout! Mom was really good at getting all the bones out of the fish, Grandma…not so much. During the summer we ate trout several times a week and we never got tired of it.
Last year the Dog Walker was working on the Fishing Merit Badge. One of the requirements was that he had to catch a fish. So he went fishing with his scout troop and came home with several small perch. My sweetie grew up in small-town Utah and he has often talked about fishing, so I sent him out to clean the fish with the Dog Walker thinking this was a guy thing while I patiently set about making side dishes to serve with his prize. This was obviously a task my sweetie had blocked from his memory, because before he started he had to get on the Internet and look for instructions. I’m not sure who wrote those instructions, but they were definitely different from the way I was taught. As the evening progressed, my sweetie had to take himself out on the porch a couple of times to keep from heaving. Remember I told you yesterday that he had to throw the little fish back? Well…
Anyway, by the time they finished dissecting the perch, it looked more like tuna…from a can! We fried it up anyway and like all perch, it was pretty tasteless. Thank goodness we got a Merit Badge out of it, because at this rate, we weren’t teaching our kids to love the taste of fish.
6 comments:
I really like this entry. It reminds me of fishing with Grandpa as well. I think that you may have drastically increased the size of Community, though. I'd have guessed 120 yds long and 30-40 yds wide! Also, only old-time locals call it "Community." It's known throughout the regular world as "Lake Hill."
~R
Beautiful post. Love how you recall those moments with grandpa. I too would be heaving while the fish was cleaned... can't fault him there- yuck! Good for your sweetie for catching the fish (don't think I would be able to do that either) I am not a nature gal- sucks for my kids.
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I loved this post!! It sounds like you have wonderful memories of fishing with your grandfather and now you're creating those same amazing memories for your kids!!!
Im to impatient for foshong and i just dont like fish except for store bought stuff like salmon... i remember when we hadf those fish thank goodness for the store bought tilapia we had with it
Oh my I have such a smile on my face; that was an adorable fish story. We fished a lot through the years; but my fondest memories is the time I was fishing with my father and while I went off to play he put a fish on my hook and called to tell me I had one. He was such a precious soul.
Blessings to you today for the fun and the memories.
Really neat story. What a patient grandpa you had.
I used to love fishing with my dad out of a skiff in the Keys. Anyone with the patience to fish, has the patience for a child.
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