Thursday, October 05, 2006


Originally uploaded by Contrary Goddess.

Only two things keep a body at the fishing hole -- catching fish and not catching fish. Guess which one it was this day?

Yesterday was an unpleasant emotional day. But I have SUCH a family. Today, despite all the tasks I had not yet done, husband insisted I go fishing. By myself. And the children gathered my worms.

The pond is a pleasant mile walk through the woods. There were so many mushrooms! And a smattering of fallen yellow leaves and green pine needles carpeting the way.

Now, I *love* fishing. I didn't know I loved fishing, didn't grow up doing it, don't know much about it. When I was a kid the closest I came to fishing was dropping a line in Tom's Creek (where nothing lived back then) or helping my grandparents clean fish Gordon Bright, that lovely, flirtatious owner of the Gulf station, had brought to them.

But I *love* fishing. I have said here before that it is the optimists' pursuit, so I guess I'm an optimist. Always the next cast. Always the next cast.

Literally the only nibble I got all afternoon was this one fish. I could see tons of large mouth bass swimming around but couldn't interest them in anything. Never can. I couldn't find where the bluegill were hiding. Everywhere I went I could see bass and bluegill usually won't stay around bass. They were probably in the cattails.

But I just kept casting. Maybe one of those bass would weaken and take the hook. Maybe anything. I moved around and around the pond. When I heard thunder, I thought, it is far away. When the light started to fade, I started thinking, hey, I'm not that hungry, maybe I could just spend the night here, it probably won't get that cold -- this despite the approaching thunderstorm and the fact that each time I stood up I got dizzy from low blood sugar. And this despite the fact that my dog, usually my faithful fishing companion, had abandoned me and gone back home already.

But when thunder finally cracked right over my head, I packed up and took my stringer of one lonely fish home with me. The light on the walk home was magnificent.

And husband, he had the milking buckets ready for me, and a full supper ready to boot.

Best, he called me "a real fisherman". Cool.


Deb said...

That's one nice size bluegill there! Bet it made almost a meal for one.

Despite working in the fish management field, I don't get out fishing nearly enough. That has got to change.

the Contrary Goddess said...

oh yeah. You know, it is just like making one's own meals (instead of eating prepackaged convenience poison) or paying attention to one's children -- you just have to MAKE time for it. Other things are just not so important as they pretend to be.

Oh, yeah, and that was a nice size bluegill. We head and gut and freeze then glaze with ice all fish caught until we have enough for a nice mess, with hushpuppies (with corn and onion in them) and slaw. That meal is always a treat. If I could ever catch one of those darn bass, the big ones, the whole family could eat on one almost. Daughter caught a 2#er once.

Joe Tornatore said...

that's a good husband.