As a junior city slicker, still wet behind the ears,
fishin was a whole new experience
yet to be tackled, hook, line and sinker.

Early one morning I was rolling around in my bed,
sleep still in my eyes, taste in my mouth
like Henry Gee’s mule went stamping thru.
Robert and James came running in
“Wake up already, breakfast is almost ready.
Grandpa just showed us where the bamboo
fishin poles are out back in the woodshed.
If you want to come fishin get a move on.”

Out the bed I jumped, both feet hit the throw rug,
Swoosh it went a sliding, on my keyster I landed.
My brothers shook their heads laughing
as they turned away headed out the door.
I stood up rubbing my butt.

Homemade bread from coffee cans
was flying out the oven,
butter was spreading, jam was smearing,
milk gravy was pouring, we was eating
like hard time ex-convicts on their first day out of prison.

“Let’s go dig some worms” James said
as the last piece of hickory smoked bacon
passed his already greasy lips.
“You boys mind the swan,
one of Gods creatures placed here
not to be messed with,
she’ll chase ya, yes she will,
know off with ya’s all”

Out the screen door we ran,
thru the Commando Croquette course,
past the big holly bush, past the black bell,
around the wood shed where the tractors were parked.

Rob slid past the big back wheels,
which were head and shoulders above him,
turned and faced the shed wall.
Reached up past the ladders hanging
precariously on two wooded hangers
most likely made by Uncle Alley, I reckon.

“Here’s one for you James and one for me,
Ronnie you get to watch. Just foolin, here’s yours”
We high tailed it outta there and made a bee line
for the pond. Grandpa cut us a path thru the grass
which usually the cows keep low but they were off
moseyin around another part of the property
doin whatever cows do.

This pond was man made,
used to waterin the fields and live stock.
But there was fish in it.
We all had a mind to introduce them to our hooks.
Let the fishin begin!!!

The bamboo poles were long and lean
with fishin line twirled around them.
Tied off on the end was a small barbed hook.
To keep an eye on what was goin on underwater
was a red and white bobber which floated high above.

There we stood ready to catch dinner when
a Ford pickup truck, white top,
faded greenish sun worn paint job
with mud on the wheel wells,
blew its horn as it passed in front of us on the road.

“What’s up boys” yelled Larry
with his arm out the window,
waving back and forth,
smile on his face,
looking thru his gray plastic eye glasses.
He turned down the driveway.

In life you meet people that God has blessed
with abilities and capabilities
above and beyond mortal man.
The Lord graced Larry with the ability to catch fish.

Before long we had a string of yellow speckled perch,
small mouth bass finger tip to elbow long
and the granddaddy of all catfish,
who, as far as I was concerned,
time was up!!!

Hours flew by cause we was havin so much fun.
The day was drawing to a close.
Larry looked to the west, glancing at the sun
then to his watch, took his glasses off to clean them,
cleared his throat first before he spoke
cause he stuttered from time to time,
we understood him just the same.
“Boy’s I still got chores to tend to,
but before I go I’ll walk ya all back up to the house.
Its time to clean these here fish
so’s that you can eat them for dinner.”

Back up to the house we went
poles in one hand, fish in the other.
Grandma cooked the fish,
pan sheared with chips,
sliced potatoes to us city boys.

Bed time rolled around
my head hit the pillow,
I was out like a light.
On the floor sat the pot by itself, lid on top
filled with Pinesall as usual.
There it stayed, me paying it no never mind.
You see, I pee’d in the commode
right after dinner just like country folk do.