Since I just learned by way of the grapevine, this is “Tell a Story Day”–here’s a family story from last year .
The pond was always muddy because cattle stirred the water to keep cool. Nobody cared that it was overpopulated with less-desirable fish species. Willow trees leaned out over the dam and spillway.
Angling was a new experience for three brothers. Fishing gear was simple–willow pole, cotton line, bobber, and hooks. Bait was plentiful–grasshoppers, earthworms, crickets. Securing bait took a modicum of effort. It was fun for a time, until reality set in.
Fish could be lousy, unrepentant bait thieves. There were days when fish were lazy and wouldn’t bite. It was back and forth to the house–the screen door slammed constantly.
“Mom, the fish just won’t bite. I’ll bet I could put a dollar bill on a hook and they still wouldn’t bite.” Not that fish had any interest in paper money.
“Maybe they’re just not hungry?” Mom suggested. She was probably right, but us three brothers were persistent.
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