GONE FISHIN '

My last post got me thinking about fishing with my dad. First off, the guy on the jetty was wearing a ball cap; my dad had this straw affair, with hooks stuck in the band. That was HIS fishing hat. I dug out this picture which always makes me smile. It is my big sister, Carol and I at the wharf with Dad right about 1964. I'm not sure who took the picture. It may have been Mom since I'm about seven in the picture which would make Katie five and probably too young to take the shot. Maybe we asked a stranger to take the photo... Check out our string of ENORMOUS perch. And check out the fins on that car -- our 59 Fairlane NOT a 500. Even as a kid I knew the difference.

Goin' fishing with Dad meant I got to wear a ponytail. Mom didn't like the way the rubber bands tore at my hair and they didn't make the wrapped ones then. So, this was a big-girl operation of grand proportions in my mind. The picture also brings to mind a day on the wharf when we realized Dad's knotting skills were not what he thought them to be. He took Mom's red rubber bucket to the pier, tied a rope to it and lowered it into the murky depths to collect water for the legion of fish we would surely catch. I still remember hauling up the rope.....with no bucket. Dad was SO in trouble for losing that bucket.