Day 238
Becky was afraid
to fish for a while because she
didn’t want
mud-clots like old Charlie at Fox Lake
Very
“funny” the way a kid’s mind works; really weird---mine still works that way!?
Becky
accompanied me on many “adult” outings before she entered school; I was her
“default” babysitter and we sure enough made the most of our relationship. I
once took her with me to see a client; I told her to stay in the car and not to
let the man see her as I did not want to have to explain her presence. The
residence was on a farm so I felt safe in my conclusion. When I finished my
business and came out to leave with the farmer right behind me---there was my
sweet little “obedient?” daughter with the driver’s window rolled down…sitting
on the door ledge with the radio blaring drumming out a cadenced-beat to the
music on the roof! Hmm!
For
several years I belonged to a fishing club: Fox Lake. My Dad had been a member
and after he passed my Mom took his spot; eventually I joined of my own accord.
We
spent a lot of time at Fox Lake; between that and my grandparents’ farm when I
was a kid growing up, these two venues provided fodder
for my wild-adventures. Fox Lake had
twenty-six members; at the May annual meeting, I took young daughter Becky with
me to the gathering, she was probably about 5 or 6 on that occasion..
She
had told me she didn’t want to go fishing because she didn’t want to get “mud
clots” in her legs like old Charlie, one of the members, had. He had undergone
surgery for “blood clots” in his legs and Becky had overheard the story; she
thought he had mud clots because he fished so much. The group howled when I
spun that story at the annual meeting. I explained it all to Becky. She took it
all in good measure, happy that old Charlie didn’t get mud clots from fishing.
Beth
never suffered from the anxiety of “mud clots” or any other fishing-ailment.
When she was three years old, I took her to Fox Lake one fine February day when
the temperature warmed into the high seventies to teach her to fish for
bluegill sun fish. Boy! Did that girl take to fishing!
We
(actually, Beth) caught 22 bluegill that afternoon; Dad? “Zero!” She kept me
perpetually busy taking fish off her line and rebaiting the hook. I wouldn’t
have had it any other way!
And,
our Miss Rachel Rebecca never got “mud clots” like old Charlie---either! Hmm!
Ah! Cookie Jar Sweet “I’ve got another one!”
Memories!
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