I was reminded on my outing yesterday by a memory that I have held onto all my life. Bob, loves to fish so we shared some stories.
It was the second summer after we arrived in Canada and as we lived adjacent to the Lake of Two Mountains west of Montreal, I discovered the joy of fishing. I loved the solitude and the patience it required to wait for the Bobbin to tug at my string. My pole was a long branch cut from a tree to which I attached a short string, a bobbin, a weight and a hook. I would dig in the dirt around the lake and find worms. I usually caught a fish, inedible because the lake was polluted but was always proud of my effort. A Gift to my cat however. I didn't mind so much putting the worm on the hook but removing the fish from the hook if it was too deeply imbedded was a problem. However my best day was when I caught 7 fish with one worm. Of course the worm became shorter and shorter. What a day that was!
~ Tutte ~
