The last few days have been a whirlwind of activity. First was the move from Raleigh, NC to Atlanta, Georgia....only to find out there was no room at the inn. At that point I realized I would have never fit the bill to be the Savior's mother because all my sage advice about being positive went straight out the window. Once we were unpacked it was time to throw some duds in a bag, stuff Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, into his crate...again...and head north on Interstate 75.
Juan, my husband's co-worker, had traveled the miles to the peach state with us, following the work. Juan's cousin, Pablo, had made the decision to stay behind and stay closer to family. My husband told me that since Juan would be alone for the Christmas weekend, he was going to ask him if he would like to join us for the trip to Illinois and share Christmas with our families. Juan gladly accepted the invitation and under the cover of a starlit sky, we sped out of Atlanta before the majority of its populous had awakened.
We had three Christmas events to attend in two days. The first was Christmas Eve, when we celebrate with my husbands' family. We always hosted this event, but since there is a new family living under our Bird City roof, we thought they might not be prepared if thirty some odd people showed up at the front door, unannounced. My husband's youngest niece stepped up to the plate and boldly went where she had never been before and took the family gathering challenge. She handled it like she had been doing this sort of thing for ever.
After the meal was served, the family gathered in the front room and the gifts were distributed. The look on Juan's face, when he was handed a brightly wrapped package, was priceless. The tradition for this bunch is to start the unwrapping with the youngest member going first. As each person took their turn, age wise, it came time for Juan to open his. He had been standing just inside the doorway to the adjoining room. Juan stepped inside the room full of people he had just met and began to speak. Silence fell across the room and every ear was tuned into his story. Juan thanked everyone for inviting him and for treating him like he was family. He then told how much he missed his own family and his two little bambinos. I watched as tears began to fill his eyes, and then I turned to look at the rest of family........ there was not a dry eye in the place.
Everywhere we went, there was an unexpected gift waiting for Juan. When we arrived back in Georgia, early in the evening of the 26th, we told Juan how glad we were, that he had gone with us. He told us that was the very first time, in his life, that he had received a gift at a Christmas gathering where all the family actually showed up. He followed that statement up with this one....."It was the greatest time of my life!"
May we find true treasure and blessings in the small things in life.
Tuesday, December 27, 2016
Monday, December 19, 2016
All Wrapped Up
Tis' the season for glitter and tinsel, sparkling lights and garland,
village and Nativity scenes on the mantel and brightly wrapped packages under the tree.
I've been wrapping like a crazy woman and not one thing I have wrapped so far is a gift. Our journey here in North Carolina has come to an end. It is time to move on to the next adventure in the peach state of Georgia.
Moving means packing and I have been busy wrapping plates, dishes and glasses, along with thinking paper plates and Solo cups are a wise choice. It is weird to be doing this at Christmas time. This is the first time in six decades that I have not had a tree, a tree that would have nearly 4000 lights on it. That's a lot of lights and it would literally keep the furnace from kicking on. There are no Nativity scenes, gracing every flat surface I could find, or miles of garland draped around each room. For the first time in forever, the front hall stairway could be bare as a bone.....and I'm OK with that. I'm also OK with not having to put all that stuff away.
Christmas time means a lot of things, but the most important is the gift of love. We have made many new friends in this place and we love them all. It will be hard saying good-bye and already, many a tear has been shed. We will miss them and they will miss us, but the love we have shared will last a lifetime.
After we unpack in Georgia, we plan to journey home for the holidays. There waits one of the greatest gifts of love, the family.
Merry Christmas to you and yours, maybe we will see you when we are back. I hear it is rather frigid in the land of Lincoln, so I will be digging out the heavy coats, so we can stay all wrapped up.
village and Nativity scenes on the mantel and brightly wrapped packages under the tree.
I've been wrapping like a crazy woman and not one thing I have wrapped so far is a gift. Our journey here in North Carolina has come to an end. It is time to move on to the next adventure in the peach state of Georgia.
Moving means packing and I have been busy wrapping plates, dishes and glasses, along with thinking paper plates and Solo cups are a wise choice. It is weird to be doing this at Christmas time. This is the first time in six decades that I have not had a tree, a tree that would have nearly 4000 lights on it. That's a lot of lights and it would literally keep the furnace from kicking on. There are no Nativity scenes, gracing every flat surface I could find, or miles of garland draped around each room. For the first time in forever, the front hall stairway could be bare as a bone.....and I'm OK with that. I'm also OK with not having to put all that stuff away.
Christmas time means a lot of things, but the most important is the gift of love. We have made many new friends in this place and we love them all. It will be hard saying good-bye and already, many a tear has been shed. We will miss them and they will miss us, but the love we have shared will last a lifetime.
After we unpack in Georgia, we plan to journey home for the holidays. There waits one of the greatest gifts of love, the family.
Merry Christmas to you and yours, maybe we will see you when we are back. I hear it is rather frigid in the land of Lincoln, so I will be digging out the heavy coats, so we can stay all wrapped up.
Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Now I Understand
Ten thousand this, ten thousand that. What on earth were they talking about? I pondered this question as I listened to the chatter going on between several people. Finally I figured out they were talking about steps. Not stair steps, but walking steps that humans do each day. The goal for each individual is 10,000 steps.
In order to keep track of these steps, one needs a gadget, to wear, much like a wrist watch......most kids don't even know what that is...and said gadget will count all the steps one makes in a day.
I thought that was rather silly, why not just count the steps in your head, but the wearers of such gadgetry seem to be on a constant vigil to make sure they attain the golden number of steps. I have even heard people talking to their gadget..."Only so many thousand more steps to go!"
Realizing that I was not getting enough exercise, I decided to start walking. First, I just walked. My jaunt takes me straight uphill. Having not exercised for quite some time, I discovered I could not make it to the top of the hill without having to stop and catch my breath. Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, comes in handy on this walk because he likes to stop and sniff anything that catches his attention and it makes me look like I'm just out taking the dog for a walk. On the times I left him at home, I had to stop along side the road.....three times...... and willingly accept the fact that I was really out of shape. Then I had the splendid idea of counting my steps. Surely ten thousand steps was not that big of a deal. When I got to the top of the hill and counted off the last 100 steps, I could not remember if it was 800 or 900. I decided to just figure how long it took to walk so many steps and divide that into the entire time I walked. My grand total seemed to be somewhere around 3000 steps.
That meant I would need to walk this route a little more than three times a day. Good grief, I thought to myself, who has time for that? I had things to do.....didn't I?
My new young friend Jazzy, being impressed with my walking habit, grabbed my phone the other evening and said, "Let's put an app on your phone that will count your steps!" I agreed to that and we found one for free that even counts steps made throughout the house.
The first day I had walked 4319 steps. I had burned a whopping 206 calories. I had traveled 1.7 miles. I had been active 48 minutes.......I had been physically active less than an hour.....for the whole day. If that was not bad enough, the smart-alec app had the audacity to tell me I was SEDENTARY and then followed that insult up with two words: Do More.
So, now I understood why people talked to their step counting gadgets. I will show that smarty pants app a thing or two....and... from now on, just to get it over with first, I will always eat crow as an appetizer.
In order to keep track of these steps, one needs a gadget, to wear, much like a wrist watch......most kids don't even know what that is...and said gadget will count all the steps one makes in a day.
I thought that was rather silly, why not just count the steps in your head, but the wearers of such gadgetry seem to be on a constant vigil to make sure they attain the golden number of steps. I have even heard people talking to their gadget..."Only so many thousand more steps to go!"
Realizing that I was not getting enough exercise, I decided to start walking. First, I just walked. My jaunt takes me straight uphill. Having not exercised for quite some time, I discovered I could not make it to the top of the hill without having to stop and catch my breath. Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, comes in handy on this walk because he likes to stop and sniff anything that catches his attention and it makes me look like I'm just out taking the dog for a walk. On the times I left him at home, I had to stop along side the road.....three times...... and willingly accept the fact that I was really out of shape. Then I had the splendid idea of counting my steps. Surely ten thousand steps was not that big of a deal. When I got to the top of the hill and counted off the last 100 steps, I could not remember if it was 800 or 900. I decided to just figure how long it took to walk so many steps and divide that into the entire time I walked. My grand total seemed to be somewhere around 3000 steps.
That meant I would need to walk this route a little more than three times a day. Good grief, I thought to myself, who has time for that? I had things to do.....didn't I?
My new young friend Jazzy, being impressed with my walking habit, grabbed my phone the other evening and said, "Let's put an app on your phone that will count your steps!" I agreed to that and we found one for free that even counts steps made throughout the house.
The first day I had walked 4319 steps. I had burned a whopping 206 calories. I had traveled 1.7 miles. I had been active 48 minutes.......I had been physically active less than an hour.....for the whole day. If that was not bad enough, the smart-alec app had the audacity to tell me I was SEDENTARY and then followed that insult up with two words: Do More.
So, now I understood why people talked to their step counting gadgets. I will show that smarty pants app a thing or two....and... from now on, just to get it over with first, I will always eat crow as an appetizer.
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
Lights, Camera, Action!
The amenities city life has to offer are many. Supermarkets that hold vast varieties of foods, big box stores for home improvement or wardrobe improvement, auto repair and tire shops, furniture stores, endless mattress shops and a veterinary clinic on every corner. The best advantage to city life is, most of these things are within a few blocks of home.
Another amenity is the movie theater. Going to the movies was something my husband and I rarely did. I suppose the main reason for that was, because it took at least a 40 minute drive to find a theater.
Since we have a movie theater, almost within walking distance from our humble abode, we decided to go see the movie "Ben-Hur". Remember, it had been a long time since we had gone to the movies, so imagine our surprise when the ticket lady asked us what seats we would like. We had no idea and had her pick a couple of seats, one being on the isle. As we walked through the entrance doors to the theater we knew a lot of things had changed. We had to ask for directions because there are 16 movie screens under one roof and we needed number 8. Luckily we had eaten before we left and were able to by-pass the food stands. Long gone are the days of having three choices for a snack at the movies, popcorn, candy and a soft drink. Now it is possible to dine on an eight course meal along with a glass of wine.
We entered the dark theater and after our eyes adjusted to the low light, made the way up the steps to our seats. Each row was designated by a small glowing letter and the seats had a glowing number on them. Our seats were on the front row of the section we where to sit in. As we set down, we realized there was at least six feet of empty floor space in front of us. It did not take us long to figure out why....the seats reclined. My husband was sure that he could not recline his seat all the way for fear of someone tripping over his legs. I assured him that the good people who designed the theater probably knew what they were doing and there would be plenty of room, past his out stretched legs, to pass. Then I mentioned that snoring would be frowned upon. As I settled into my seat, I thought about the theater I went to as a teen and how my feet would stick to the floor because someone had spilled their drink three rows back.
Forty plus years had come and gone since we had last seen "Ben-Hur". We had forgotten most of the story matter, but anyone who remembers watching the original, will never forget the chariot race. The new re-make will not disappoint.
On the way home we decided that the next time we wanted to go to the movies, it would be safe to wait until closer to the actual viewing time. That way we would not have to sit through all the previews of the upcoming movies. Although, during the previews, I found one I thought I would like to see.
The movie I wanted to see was of a subject matter that my husband would find little interest in. Stepping way out of my comfort zone, I decided to go see it by myself. I had been watching the calendar for the movie's opening date and had chosen the early afternoon viewing. Since I considered myself a seasoned movie goer and so much wiser, I waited until ten minutes before the show was to start before I left the house. After all, it was right after noon on a Friday, the place could not be that busy.
As I wheeled into the parking lot from an entrance located behind the theater, my jaw dropped. The parking lot was packed!
I navigated my way to the far end and finally found a place to park. As I walked across the huge lot, bulging with cars, I was thinking my plan was not looking too good as I could see the line of people at the ticket counter. Where in the world did all these people and their children come from? It was Friday! Why weren't these kids in school?! It was Friday, Friday the 11th of November.....Veteran's Day....a holiday.
When I finally got to the ticket counter, the nice lady informed me there were only two seats left. I told her to pick one and I would be fine with it. Yes indeed, two seats left.....right smack in the middle of the front row. I was sure glad to have that reclining seat, otherwise I would still have a crimp in my neck from holding my head back to see the screen.
When the movie was over, I'm pretty sure I glowed for a couple of hours from being that close to the screen. From now on, I will leave a little earlier and check the calendar for upcoming holidays.
Another amenity is the movie theater. Going to the movies was something my husband and I rarely did. I suppose the main reason for that was, because it took at least a 40 minute drive to find a theater.
Since we have a movie theater, almost within walking distance from our humble abode, we decided to go see the movie "Ben-Hur". Remember, it had been a long time since we had gone to the movies, so imagine our surprise when the ticket lady asked us what seats we would like. We had no idea and had her pick a couple of seats, one being on the isle. As we walked through the entrance doors to the theater we knew a lot of things had changed. We had to ask for directions because there are 16 movie screens under one roof and we needed number 8. Luckily we had eaten before we left and were able to by-pass the food stands. Long gone are the days of having three choices for a snack at the movies, popcorn, candy and a soft drink. Now it is possible to dine on an eight course meal along with a glass of wine.
We entered the dark theater and after our eyes adjusted to the low light, made the way up the steps to our seats. Each row was designated by a small glowing letter and the seats had a glowing number on them. Our seats were on the front row of the section we where to sit in. As we set down, we realized there was at least six feet of empty floor space in front of us. It did not take us long to figure out why....the seats reclined. My husband was sure that he could not recline his seat all the way for fear of someone tripping over his legs. I assured him that the good people who designed the theater probably knew what they were doing and there would be plenty of room, past his out stretched legs, to pass. Then I mentioned that snoring would be frowned upon. As I settled into my seat, I thought about the theater I went to as a teen and how my feet would stick to the floor because someone had spilled their drink three rows back.
Forty plus years had come and gone since we had last seen "Ben-Hur". We had forgotten most of the story matter, but anyone who remembers watching the original, will never forget the chariot race. The new re-make will not disappoint.
On the way home we decided that the next time we wanted to go to the movies, it would be safe to wait until closer to the actual viewing time. That way we would not have to sit through all the previews of the upcoming movies. Although, during the previews, I found one I thought I would like to see.
The movie I wanted to see was of a subject matter that my husband would find little interest in. Stepping way out of my comfort zone, I decided to go see it by myself. I had been watching the calendar for the movie's opening date and had chosen the early afternoon viewing. Since I considered myself a seasoned movie goer and so much wiser, I waited until ten minutes before the show was to start before I left the house. After all, it was right after noon on a Friday, the place could not be that busy.
As I wheeled into the parking lot from an entrance located behind the theater, my jaw dropped. The parking lot was packed!
I navigated my way to the far end and finally found a place to park. As I walked across the huge lot, bulging with cars, I was thinking my plan was not looking too good as I could see the line of people at the ticket counter. Where in the world did all these people and their children come from? It was Friday! Why weren't these kids in school?! It was Friday, Friday the 11th of November.....Veteran's Day....a holiday.
When I finally got to the ticket counter, the nice lady informed me there were only two seats left. I told her to pick one and I would be fine with it. Yes indeed, two seats left.....right smack in the middle of the front row. I was sure glad to have that reclining seat, otherwise I would still have a crimp in my neck from holding my head back to see the screen.
When the movie was over, I'm pretty sure I glowed for a couple of hours from being that close to the screen. From now on, I will leave a little earlier and check the calendar for upcoming holidays.
Tuesday, November 29, 2016
Reflections
The founder of Facebook, Mark Zuckerberg and his colleagues, want everyone in the world to have access to the internet. That is a grandiose dream and plan, but I hope, within the process of achieving such high endeavors, they take the time to teach people how to be kind to each other.
After the election, along with the fact that the sun actually rose the next day and the earth did not quit spinning, I realized that I needed to take some time off from social media. During this sabbatical from drama, I began to reflect about the past few months. The clock, that we humans so eloquently measure our days upon the earth with, has consistently ticked off the seconds, minutes, hours and days without the least bit of care as to what we, as the human race, are doing......and that got me to thinking about certain inalienable rights that we grow with, believe to be true and pass on to our offspring......
The older one gets, the faster time goes by....Mother was right about that one.
Spending a holiday with someone, other than blood relatives, is a good thing. Especially if they did not have any blood relatives to celebrate with either.
Procrastination loves company. Keeping it as a friend will take away second chances, keep dreams just out of reach and cause one to miss that last conversation with a close friend.
Do not judge others. It is said that we are judged by the same measure we judge others with. Think about that.
Unless you are making enough money to be on an episode of "Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous", learn to live with less and teach your children the same. Retire in your 30's or 40's, step out of your comfort zone, see the world and meet new people. No one will remember you because of your living room furniture and big screen TV.
Live your life. Take chances. I've known many people who never stepped outside of the box or put anything unhealthy in their bodies and still died of some nasty disease. Like it or not, we all have a numbered amount of days, live them like there are only a couple left.
In a large metropolis, if one has the time, a person could learn a foreign language just by reading the labels in the supermarkets. Aluminum is still aluminum in Spanish.
Stretch denim will only stretch so far.
Tuesday, November 15, 2016
Weeded Out
Teaching a child how to weed a garden can be a harrowing experience. It takes a strong countenance to not show disappointment when the child proudly shows their efforts and the prized tulips are on top of the pile. Showing them once is usually not enough, it turns into a labor of love and patience.
Riding along with my young friend, Jazzy, we came to an intersection and the light had turned red. As we waited for green, Jazzy looked at the vehicle to her left. She studied the driver, an older, white haired woman, probably somewhere between 60 and 75 years of age. Jazzy said, so very matter of factly, "That woman should not be driving." This woman, who did not seem to have a problem herding her SUV down the road, had most likely been driving more years than Jazzy has been breathing. I replied, "Careful, you'll be that age someday." Then I checked in the mirror to see how much regrowth of grey hair was showing.
After the election, there was a chart posted on social media by some people who were not happy with the results. The chart stated that the majority of young adults, aged 18-25 had voted for Clinton. One person stated this was how the future voted and to keep the flame alive and it was followed by several approving statements made by parents.
The only way to change a nation is to start with the youth. Massive upheavals in what people believe do not change in sixteen years, it takes a generation. How long is that? The Bible tells the story of the Israelite's coming to the land that had been promised to them. The trouble was, there where giants that lived there and the people who were old enough to go to battle and take the country were afraid. So, they had to wander in the desert. Not so much as punishment, but to weed out, or die off, the non-believers. Then, the time was used to teach and encourage the youth that they could do it and the process took 40 years.
Today's youth are stuck in their cell phones. There are children as young as eight who have a cell phone along with internet connection. There are scores of young people on Facebook, even though a person is supposed to be 18 years old to open an account. Sadly, most of the parents are on their phone too. If they believe they know what their children are doing on their phones, they are sadly mistaken. All children come to a point in their lives that makes them believe their parents are not the sharpest crayon in the box. When that mindset kicks in and they are unrestrained from the vast amount of information sitting in the palm of their hand, who do you think they are going to talk to?
My point to all of this is, who is teaching and changing the country's youth. What will they think is acceptable in 40 years and do their parents really understand just how old they, themselves, will be in that length of time. Will they be willing to give up their driver's license because 'anyone over 60 should not be driving' has in fact become a believable truth? If the population needs to be controlled, who will be the first to go? Grandma? Hogwash? That sort of thing doesn't happen? Go ask a twenty-something year old if the milk is okay past the expiration date.
With a little research, the above stated chart turned out not to be factual. Since so many people live with the idea that, if it was on Facebook, it surely must be true, I decided to use it anyway. I will not worry about what it will be like in 40 years. If I'm not dead by that time, I hope to be windsurfing somewhere warm. But in the meantime, just to be safe, I'm going to hop in the little black truck, drive it like I stole it and go buy some hair color.
Riding along with my young friend, Jazzy, we came to an intersection and the light had turned red. As we waited for green, Jazzy looked at the vehicle to her left. She studied the driver, an older, white haired woman, probably somewhere between 60 and 75 years of age. Jazzy said, so very matter of factly, "That woman should not be driving." This woman, who did not seem to have a problem herding her SUV down the road, had most likely been driving more years than Jazzy has been breathing. I replied, "Careful, you'll be that age someday." Then I checked in the mirror to see how much regrowth of grey hair was showing.
After the election, there was a chart posted on social media by some people who were not happy with the results. The chart stated that the majority of young adults, aged 18-25 had voted for Clinton. One person stated this was how the future voted and to keep the flame alive and it was followed by several approving statements made by parents.
The only way to change a nation is to start with the youth. Massive upheavals in what people believe do not change in sixteen years, it takes a generation. How long is that? The Bible tells the story of the Israelite's coming to the land that had been promised to them. The trouble was, there where giants that lived there and the people who were old enough to go to battle and take the country were afraid. So, they had to wander in the desert. Not so much as punishment, but to weed out, or die off, the non-believers. Then, the time was used to teach and encourage the youth that they could do it and the process took 40 years.
Today's youth are stuck in their cell phones. There are children as young as eight who have a cell phone along with internet connection. There are scores of young people on Facebook, even though a person is supposed to be 18 years old to open an account. Sadly, most of the parents are on their phone too. If they believe they know what their children are doing on their phones, they are sadly mistaken. All children come to a point in their lives that makes them believe their parents are not the sharpest crayon in the box. When that mindset kicks in and they are unrestrained from the vast amount of information sitting in the palm of their hand, who do you think they are going to talk to?
My point to all of this is, who is teaching and changing the country's youth. What will they think is acceptable in 40 years and do their parents really understand just how old they, themselves, will be in that length of time. Will they be willing to give up their driver's license because 'anyone over 60 should not be driving' has in fact become a believable truth? If the population needs to be controlled, who will be the first to go? Grandma? Hogwash? That sort of thing doesn't happen? Go ask a twenty-something year old if the milk is okay past the expiration date.
With a little research, the above stated chart turned out not to be factual. Since so many people live with the idea that, if it was on Facebook, it surely must be true, I decided to use it anyway. I will not worry about what it will be like in 40 years. If I'm not dead by that time, I hope to be windsurfing somewhere warm. But in the meantime, just to be safe, I'm going to hop in the little black truck, drive it like I stole it and go buy some hair color.
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
The Gift
"Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime." (origin highly contested)
Beaver Lake (aka Pond Biggie) may only be a man-made catch basin, but it is teaming with life. There are scores of turtles and one of those, a snapping turtle, looks to have the circumference of a snow saucer. The surface of the water is alive with several species of water fowl and its shallows provide many a meal for the Belted Kingfish and the Great Blue Heron.
Below the ripples live a variety of fish and although I had been told there were some big ones in there, I had yet to see the proof. The other day while scanning the lake, I noticed on the far side, the water looked like it was boiling. Grabbing my trusty binoculars, another treasure from home, I zeroed in on what was causing this disturbance. What I'd been told was true. There, before my eyes, was a school of some ma-honkin' grass carp, the size of which I had not seen for a long time. They all seemed to be at least two feet in length. Having not fished in quite awhile, I was thinking I sure wished I had a fishing pole.
Wanting a closer look, with binoculars in tow, I headed out the door. On my way to the far side of the lake, I came across Juan and Pablo, our new friends and co-workers with my husband. Since it was about quitting time, Juan came with me to get a closer look at the fish. He was as excited as I was and before too long, one of the supervisors had joined us and we all talked about how much fun it would be to catch one of those 'bad boys'.
About thirty minutes after I had arrived back at the apartment, there was a knock on the door. My husband went to answer and when I turned around, in walked Juan and Pablo with brand new fishing poles! The supervisor, after hearing the banter about fishing, had gone to the nearest big box store and purchased the equipment for them. Juan is 33 years old and Pablo is 27, but they looked like a couple of 10 year old boys with their new gifts. What was even better, they did not have a clue how to use them!
We sat on the patio and both watched as I laced the line up through the eyelets on the pole, tied a swivel clip on the end, added some weight and attached a hook. Then we were off to the pond.
Juan speaks English, something he taught himself, but Pablo does not. The only way they knew how to fish was with a gig. It began to look like a game of charades as I demonstrated how to hold the button down on the reel, lean back, cast and release the button on the follow through. I explained to Juan that the way I liked to fish was after the cast, set the pole down, take the slack out of the line and wait for the bite. I also told him I had yet to see a member of the human male species, regardless of age, be able to do this for more than 60 seconds. Juan translated for Pablo and when they were satisfied with this new information, each took a pole and a place on the bank.
I do not think I have laughed so hard as I did watching two grown men trying to cast a rod and reel for the first time. Their first attempts were met with the baited hook slamming into the ground a few feet in front of them. The next few actually got in the water, about a foot from the bank. Between their own fits of laughter, they finally began to get the feel for it and the casts were going further and further out.
Then it started.......cast out....reel in.....move down the bank.... and repeat....it must just be a "guy thing".
Did they catch one of the monster carp? No. Pablo caught a sunfish, that measured a whopping 1 1/2 inches long and Juan caught a pillow, but the gift of fishing poles sure made for a splendid afternoon.
Beaver Lake (aka Pond Biggie) may only be a man-made catch basin, but it is teaming with life. There are scores of turtles and one of those, a snapping turtle, looks to have the circumference of a snow saucer. The surface of the water is alive with several species of water fowl and its shallows provide many a meal for the Belted Kingfish and the Great Blue Heron.
Below the ripples live a variety of fish and although I had been told there were some big ones in there, I had yet to see the proof. The other day while scanning the lake, I noticed on the far side, the water looked like it was boiling. Grabbing my trusty binoculars, another treasure from home, I zeroed in on what was causing this disturbance. What I'd been told was true. There, before my eyes, was a school of some ma-honkin' grass carp, the size of which I had not seen for a long time. They all seemed to be at least two feet in length. Having not fished in quite awhile, I was thinking I sure wished I had a fishing pole.
Wanting a closer look, with binoculars in tow, I headed out the door. On my way to the far side of the lake, I came across Juan and Pablo, our new friends and co-workers with my husband. Since it was about quitting time, Juan came with me to get a closer look at the fish. He was as excited as I was and before too long, one of the supervisors had joined us and we all talked about how much fun it would be to catch one of those 'bad boys'.
About thirty minutes after I had arrived back at the apartment, there was a knock on the door. My husband went to answer and when I turned around, in walked Juan and Pablo with brand new fishing poles! The supervisor, after hearing the banter about fishing, had gone to the nearest big box store and purchased the equipment for them. Juan is 33 years old and Pablo is 27, but they looked like a couple of 10 year old boys with their new gifts. What was even better, they did not have a clue how to use them!
We sat on the patio and both watched as I laced the line up through the eyelets on the pole, tied a swivel clip on the end, added some weight and attached a hook. Then we were off to the pond.
Juan speaks English, something he taught himself, but Pablo does not. The only way they knew how to fish was with a gig. It began to look like a game of charades as I demonstrated how to hold the button down on the reel, lean back, cast and release the button on the follow through. I explained to Juan that the way I liked to fish was after the cast, set the pole down, take the slack out of the line and wait for the bite. I also told him I had yet to see a member of the human male species, regardless of age, be able to do this for more than 60 seconds. Juan translated for Pablo and when they were satisfied with this new information, each took a pole and a place on the bank.
I do not think I have laughed so hard as I did watching two grown men trying to cast a rod and reel for the first time. Their first attempts were met with the baited hook slamming into the ground a few feet in front of them. The next few actually got in the water, about a foot from the bank. Between their own fits of laughter, they finally began to get the feel for it and the casts were going further and further out.
Then it started.......cast out....reel in.....move down the bank.... and repeat....it must just be a "guy thing".
Did they catch one of the monster carp? No. Pablo caught a sunfish, that measured a whopping 1 1/2 inches long and Juan caught a pillow, but the gift of fishing poles sure made for a splendid afternoon.
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