Gone Fishing!

August 23, 2009

My sister-in-law Mary and I harassed my brother and his friends until they reluctantly agreed to take us along with them on a fishing trip. There was one condition however. We had to collect worms for their bate.
“How hard could that be?” we asked each other?
The day of our great adventure began with an ungodly ringing of the alarm at what seemed an ungodly hour. I really wanted to bury my head in the blankets and go back to sleep. However, it had taken us weeks of pleading to finally get the boys to cave-in. Under the circumstances I couldn’t very well not go.
We arrived at a quiet, peaceful lake on a lovely sun drenched morning. I realized as I stood there drinking in the beauty around me that the trauma of getting up in the middle of the night was well worth it.
The boys gave us plastic containers along with instructions on how to collect bate. The secret, they said, was to roll large rocks over and quickly scoop up the unsuspecting worms before they could escape.
Mary and I went about the easy task. Placing my foot against a large boulder I gave it a push and was surprised at how easily it rolled away. Even more surprised was I to find myself staring at what seemed to be a colony on writhing, slimy, fat, grey looking worms. I almost fell in my haste to get away. A loud scream issued forth from somewhere…oh it was from me!…echoed by a louder scream from Mary! Collecting ourselves we decided to work together. There was courage and strength in numbers, or so we thought. Moving on to the next rock, and the next, and the next, we found ourselves repeating our first reaction. Disgusted with us the guys sent us to sit by the lake.
“There won’t be any bait left at this rate.” they complained.
Needless to say, Mary & I didn’t do much fishing that day. After all who could we ask to bait our hooks? And if we should happen to be unlucky enough to catch a fish who would take it off our line? The boys? I think not!

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