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Blishing

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Going through the two large tackle boxes of my Dad's that Mom let us bring back to Utah along with a few of his poles. Cajun and I are divvying up the stuff before she moves to North Dakota in a few days (she'll be doing much more fishing than I so she's getting the bulk of it) and I run into two old containers with the old lures still in them...they're what he used while I was very young during our many, many camping and fishing trips we took as a family.
I kept catching myself grinning at rusty old lures and hooks and broken, taped up little lure organizers.
I'll put pictures up when I can transfer them (phone's off for a while).

I kept drifting off thinking of manning my usual little black fishing pole, sitting beside the gently lapping water of various lakes here in Northern Utah, Smith Morehouse, Mirror Lake, Pineview Reservoir. And watching the sparkling, sometimes blinding fast little lures gliding expertly through the water at the end of my dad's pole. My brother & I were rarely allowed to use the "spinners" because we would get them snagged and lost too often and to my dad, a fishing trip was not a pleasure trip, it was a business trip. We were to catch fish, and preferably, our limit every single day.
Unfortunately, because it was such a "job", I wouldn't admit I enjoyed fishing for years. I wouldn't admit I enjoyed camping, either for that matter.
We had our poles unceremoniously snatched from us on occasion because we weren't snagging the fish and reeling it in with maximum results.
I need to remind you my Dad was life long career Air Force...not the strictest ever, but pretty staunch in his methods.
I am happy to report I did finally come to terms with my "dad issues" vs my love of fishing & camping and separated them. My kids both enjoy the activities as well and we've done our share of threatening fish in their waters over the years. Haven't caught many, but we've made them startle a time or two. Maybe not with a hook and line, usually someone falling in the water, a dog leaping in the water, a smaller Cajie or Sony throwing rocks in the water, and even a time or two, one of my beloved Grandbabies wading the edges and looking for small minnows and frogs.
One day I will catch one of the buggers.
The last trout I caught was smaller and had swallowed the hook. This was YEARS ago, probably 10 and at the Farmington Pond in Farmington, Utah; I tried to take the hook out and it SCREAMED at me! I was so freaked out and upset I didn't fish again for a few years. My family still teases me about my screaming fish trauma. Before that I caught a huge, ugly carp at Ft Bueneventura. BLEH! I screamed (me, not the fish that time) and the guy next to me came over, bopped it deftly on the noggin and offered to take the ugly beasty away, to my great relief.
Sonya wanted to keep it. In the bathtub. She was about 5, I guess...Speaking of. Today is her 26th Birthday.
We should have gone fishing, but I've got a raging cold that she and her Sister so kindly gave me.
But I enjoyed my little trip through childhood fishing memories lane, er, lake. Ricer. Creek. Whatever.
Ocean fishing might be fun. My Dog those sailfish are just too beautiful to kill though, I'd feel bad if it was injured during a catch & release.
My luck I'd catch a shark that would leap aboard and eat me. Even though I'd be screaming "But I *love* sharks"!
I can still, like a clear snapshot in my mind, see the Sun reflecting off the water, blinding me, and my Mom's red and white barber pole-ish striped pole. I think my Dad's was brown. I can't remember what color my Brother's was. Dark green I think. I don't care to bother with my brother much these days anyway.
Have a fish and a smile. :) >=>
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