I suppose it helps that I was suppose to be a boy. And that my parents waited 5 years to have a child, and that I was an only child until I was nearly 7. My Dad was a woodsman. Raised in the
old growth timber of Northen WI and worked the woods as well as the farm. His father's brothers were settlers in the Chippewa valley, known for it's timber industry and lumber. The mighty Chippewa River floated many a log down stream to the Mississippi.
Rivers, woods, wild open country are part of my heritage. My Dad loved to fish, and luckily my Mom adapted to that life style. I am talking about REAL fishing. The kind in which you and fish have about 50-50 odds of success. He has all the fish-like skills and knowledge of the water. You have that old cane pole, a cork bobber, some black threadtype line, a hook, a wiggley worm and determination. You are COUNTING on the fish to need a meal and be tempted. That way YOU get a meal...heheheh! Don't tell the fish!
Do you remember "fishie, fishie in the brook, come and bite my little hook...I will catch you if I can and fry you up in my little pan"? *VBS*
I never trudged the dusty roads of WI, fishing pole on my shoulder, unless you count the walk from the car to the lake shore or river bank. We were 'land' fishermen. Occasionally a fishing trip would include a row boat rental. WI's lakes are many, and the resorts of the 1940's and 50's usually had a string of bright green row boats that you could rent. I wish I remembered what they cost, but as a child that's nothing that occurs to you.
My adored getting to go fishing with my Dad, just us two, out in the boat. He was very tolerant and let me just hang over the side, watching the lily pads go by, seeing the minnows dart and the golden, mysterious shadowy bottom get darker and darker. Nothing about being on the lake scared me until I saw my first water snake lurking in the lily pads. After that it was hard, but I didn't trail my fingers along in the water at the side of the boat as much!
I had a good toleration for fishing, I could stay out there hours and hours and be still and be happy. I always got tired before my Dad did, but that's to be expected.
We often had a lunch(of sorts) in a brown paper bag, accompanied by a glass vinegar jug of water. Never anything fancy or elaborate, but did a jelly sandwich ever taste as good as when you were fishing? That and a crunchy apple?
Mostly we caught 'pan' fish. I suppose they are called that because you fry them up in a pan. This was before filleting became popular. Dad cut off the heads and tails, gutted them and scrapped off the scales. Mom washed them well, floured them and fried them up in a big black cast iron frying pan. They were crispy and tender, moist and tasty. You had to pick out the bones, being careful not to swallow one. You were a BIG girl if Dad didn't have to 'bone' your fish any more..*VBS*
The fish we caught in summer were a staple in our summer diets. Once really HOT weather began, the lakes develop their 'dog days' of summer algae growth, the fish get softer of body from the warmer water, and we didn't fish a lake unless it was spring fed. Many of the lakes around Chippewa Falls are just that, spring fed. Chippewa was known for years and years for it's famous Chippewa Springs water...even back before spring water was fashionable.
In winter, we fished through the ice on lakes frozen deep, deep, deep. Again, more pan fish, but occasionally a muskie or a northern pike.
My family didn't eat catfish or bull heads, but it was fun to catch them as they put up a really good fight. The hook had to be removed with a pliers as those stingy things on their face are nasty!
I fished with my DH through many years of marriage, and fished with my kids during their growing up years. Sadly I do not fish anymore, not that I wouldn't like to. The opportunity no longer presents itself. I have wonderful memories of refections on the water, the sounds of the river, the birds, and the lulling of the water as you sit and watch for that bobber to go down.....just once more!
I finally got brave enough to just "do it". I sewed 9(vs.6) of them together yesterday. I'm not sure if I will leave it at the 9(and a square)or if I will reduce it to the 6, as in the picture. I'd really like your opinions!! I'm not very much into primatives, but I love the look of these. The edges will stay uneven and when I quilt it, it probably will be with perle cotton and a bigger stitch. I have one quilt that is considered a 'primative', and I could hang it by the bed with that quilt. Or....I could hang it near my dining room table, next to my egg basket quilt print. First I have to decide if I like this size or not. Once I decide, there will be one more post about this, as I'd like to give the extra blocks away to one of you gals who like primatives..*VBS*
I'm here in my little corner of the world. I have chosen this very small, little life for this part of my journey. I like it that way. Trust me, I've run the bigger race. I've climbed the mountains, forded the rivers, and dug tunnels. As the wife of a school administrator, daughter of a parent with cancer, mom to five adopted kids, foster mom to more newborns than I can remember, church member, community member, etc, etc, etc I know all about the "flow" of life in the fast lane.
smell is the very worst. The combination of the smoker and the smoldering has 'set me up' to be more sensitive than usual this year. I didn't give that a thought as I went to the fireworks...big mistake.
.JPG)
