I will admit that my sister was more of an avid fisherman than me. If I was getting a bite, I was all in, but if not, I could think of a million other things I could be doing. One of those things was exploring. I would wander off and climb on logs, watch for animals, play in the water, examine various flowers and plants, pick berries, and simply enjoy the scenery. Most of our fishing was in the mountains by cold streams. If you haven’t figured it out by now, that setting suits me fine. As I got older, my wandering included a camera. That would (and still does) satisfy me for countless hours.
No, this wasn’t her prize fish. This was part of her training for catching the big one!
One summer we headed to the mountains for a day of fishing and a picnic. My sister had good luck that day. She caught the biggest fattest trout. As soon as we got back to town, she pulled out her prize fish to show everyone. That was a mistake!
There was another fisherman, “Grumpy John,” who didn’t go with us and even though he wasn’t along, he didn’t like anyone to catch a bigger fish than he could – especially a scrawny little girl. His eyes were green with envy and he said, “I’ll take care of those fish for you.” Sis had decided she wanted to take her fish home. In fact, the whole mess was heading south. The fish were put in water and made into fish ice cubes. All the fish would fit in the cooler perfectly for the trip home.
Daddy with his catch
Just a few days later, it was time to head home. Grumpy John said, “I’ll get your fish out of the freezer and put them in the cooler.” It was usually a three-day trip back home. Either the first or second night we stopped to get a room. Daddy was not a big spender when it came to motels. We stayed in a room that looked like a cozy home for bedbugs and other critters. The cooler with the fish was taken into the room. The fish ice cubes needed to be iced down a bit more for the rest of the trip. The lid came off and after a more thorough inspection, it seemed something was missing. Instead of the fish we caught, including the prize fish, there were smaller ones in their place that he had frozen previously.
“Where is my fish?” You talk about mad, my sister was mad! We were too far away to turn around and go back to get her fish. If she thought she could have gotten by without being slapped, she would have said a few choice words. “He did that on purpose!” she said. We all agreed.
I’m not sure, but I think she might still be holding a grudge against Grumpy John for “stealing” her prize fish. After all, that was the one that got away.