Sunday, August 3, 2014

Grandpa's Not Always Right

     Lois and I just arrived home from six days up north.  While there our daughter and family spent three days.  Annie hasn't been there for seven years and her daughter Mollie was seeing the woods for the first time.  Also made friends with her first wood tick.  Those things happen.  Wish the little buggers didn't make themselves at home on a six year old or anyone for that matter.  At least it wasn't a deer tick.
     Back in June my son-in-law Ryan, one of the Deans, said he and Jakob Dean would come up north in August for a couple of day's fishing.  Not the best time of year but the bugs would be down and that's always a good thing.  Then, a couple of weeks ago the plan changed.  That the entire troupe would be coming was exciting.  Well, as exciting as it gets for me these days.  Yes, it was a good time.
     But seeing as how this is a fishing blog I suppose I should write about our time on the water.  Yes we did get on the water a couple of times.  If you've been reading my entries you know I'm an avid canoe man.  By avid I mean I enjoy the heck out of it but am straight line challenged.  Maybe in the next life I'll get good at J-stroking.  This time the canoes were left in the shed.
     J. Dean is an eight year old sprout, slim as a reed and full of vinegar.  I'd be more than willing to have him in the bow seat of the canoe any day but fear his parent's wrath should he fall overboard.  Not having learned the ins and outs of how to correct the usual things that go wrong while fishing, Jake also needs a little TLC that can't be provided from the back seat of a canoe.  Reason enough to use my jon boat and electric trolling motor.
     His Dad had him set up with two rods.  Decent rods, freshly spooled at an outdoor shop.  You'd think the people behind the counter would know how to wind a spool.  Most do but some aren't much more than warm bodies who don't know when a spool is full.  Lucky for Jake one of his spools knew it had been overfed and vomited twenty excess yards in hairball fashion.  Fatherly love stepped up to the plate and righted the wrong.  Twenty minutes of no fishing for R. Dean.  Those kind of things happen all the time to kids and probably cloud their idea of what fishing is like.
     I recall similar problems when I was drowning the worms of my childhood.  Part of the problem was ignorance, part crappy, hand-me-down gear and my personal favorite, lack of money. But none of that kept me from having a good time when near water though little was caught.  Seems J. Dean feels the same way.  Even when the bird's nests were flying he was upbeat.
     Like a good younger sister Mollie also wanted to go fishing.  Four in the jon boat would have been a crowd.  Turned out it wasn't since Mollie was more than happy to do her fishing from a dock.  No fish were caught but she didn't seem to much care.  Watching the resident dock sunnies lip and dash with her plastic tipped jig seemed as fascinating for her as for any kid.  Good time on a perfect evening.

No comments:

Post a Comment