It’s Called Fishin’
My first memory of fishing was with my grandpa and grandma in a pond on their farm. I was seven years old. I remember the cane pole and line with a worm on the end. I remember the little red and white bobber I watched patiently until it ducked under and I jerked the pole to catch my first fish.
I didn’t really fish again until my family moved to Florida. My mom and dad both loved to fish the lake where we lived in a little town called Lutz. On occasion, especially if we had friends or family visiting from the north, we joined a charter boat out of Tarpon Springs to go deep sea fishing. That was fun, but I was a teenager by then and found the boat ride, sun, and tan Greek boys about my age more entertaining than dropping a line in the water.
My late husband, Tom, liked to fish but he enjoyed water skiing more. I tried my hand at fishing a few times at his family’s lake house using a Zebco reel and a rod Tom gave me. I never felt as if I were a true fisherman… uh…fisherwoman…whatever..., though I liked the water and the sunshine.
In April of this year, I married an honest to goodness fisherman. Mike has fished all over Florida. He won tournaments with big prizes, like money and boats. He considered trying the professional tour, but it’s a hard life with no guarantees. Still, the man knows fishing.
Mike and I bought a home on a beautiful Florida lake. Actually, he toured it while I was still living in Ohio. We made the offer and bought it. (If you missed the post how we bought the house without me there, I’ll post a link to “Sight Unseen” at the end of this one.)
Our home is on a big…make that… BIG lake. After the offer was accepted, Mike took a boat to the public ramp and toured the lake. He called me and sounded like a kid at Christmas.
“Becky, this lake is beautiful!” He told me about the areas he explored and how he ate lunch at a restaurant on the lake “only seven minutes from our house by boat…idling!”
I knew he was happy and that made me happy. I envisioned every cove and tree, bridge and boat ramp as he described his journey over the phone. A couple of hours later, Mike called me back from his house in Lutz with exciting news. The rods and reels he ordered for me had arrived!
I didn’t even know he ordered fishing equipment for me. It was an unexpected gift. He bought a Zebco reel with a rod and a spinner reel as well. He bought the Zebco because he knew I had used one before. He wanted me to have success with my casting. The spinner is there when I’m ready.
We’ve now enjoyed several evenings standing on the dock casting a line in the water. I’m okay at casting, but I have yet to hook a fish. Mike catches a little bass nearly every time we try. He makes it look easy. He throws them back. I would, too…If I ever managed to catch one.
|One of Mike's First Catches Off Our Dock|
I’m learning though. I’m learning there is much more to fishing than catching fish. I’m learning to be patient. Fishing is learning to relax and enjoy the peacefulness of the evening sun on the water.
I told Mike what I was learning. He just grinned and said, “Yep, it’s called fishin'. It’s not called catching.”
|I didn't catch it, |
but Mike let me
reel this little guy in...:)
Here is the link to "Sight Unseen." And yes, we did buy the house without me seeing it in person.