Congratulations on the dog! The Mennonite church near my grandparents’ farm in Missouri had very respected fried-chicken dinners, with astounding desserts, of course. Fish-frying was at the VFW. My great-uncle (veteran of the Pacific theater in WW2) fillets and freezes fish all through the year so he’ll have plenty for the big VFW fundraisers.
Good morning, y’all!
Thanks, T-c.
My father served in the North Atlantic during WWII. There’s something about that group of vets being fisherman—I wonder what the common thread was. Maybe their upbringing? Maybe the peace inherent in the process?
Fishing is really peaceful. I went once and was left to my own devices. Put a really gigantic marshmallow on my hook. A helpful gentleman tried to give me a few tips, but I wasn’t really interested in catching anything because I’d have had no idea what to do with it if I did. I told him I was waiting for a really mega-mouthed trout. (Really just wanted and excuse to goof off in peace and quiet.) He was OK with that so no wa disruption (sense of internal harmony.) Maybe fishing people ascribe to the “different strokes for different folks” philosophy....
Oh, and re: Crowbar the Dog: so far so good. He’s a real diplomat—almost like Buster came back in much easier to care for form out of consideration for my advanced years. Yay!