|
|
|
|
|
When I was growing up, I remember hearing my elders constantly talking about "the good ol' days." Never thought I'd be longing for them, but I guess the grass is always greener in the rearview mirror. My husband and I were reminiscing about the glorious yesteryear just the other day...
"Boy, Ah miss them days back when we all seemed to have more time to fish, an' before fishin' got so sophisticated," Mel said. "What Ah wouldn't give to drive down a gravel road an' see a big ol' yeller cat head stuck on the top of ever' fence post. Buildin' an' settin' out trotlines an' runnin' 'em early of a mornin' to see whut we caught wuz the good lahf. Ah cain't eben remember th' last tahm Ah seined fer shad er seen somebody stopped along sahd the road, ketchin' jumbo grasshoppers in the Johnsongrass an' stickin' 'em in a minner bucket. We got to take Jeffrey to do that this summer. That's the kiney thangs kids orta be doin' 'stead o' growin' fat in front of a computer or TV screen."
I couldn't help but think how remarkable those simple outings seem, looking back, but it did bring a smile to my lips.
"Used to, ever' year when the sand bass an' crappie wuz runnin' up on the Brazos, we'd have th' tahm of our lahvs," Mel continued.
I said, "Actually, I remember once when my parents came and got Curry and me out of school–Lyle was just a baby–and they took us up to the Old Davis place, where they had discovered the crappie biting like crazy. They had our lines rigged up with two hooks. Curry and I would throw the lines in the water, all the time squealing and laughing, and pull the fish out two at a time. Mama and Daddy would take the fish off and rebait our hooks, and we'd toss them out again. Seems like it was in February or March. It was a lot of fun. We were so excited. I don't think I ever caught so many fish at one time..."
"Lookin' back we had jist as much fun fishin' in one nem li'l 'luminum Lone Star boats with a 35 hp. Johnson motor as 'em big fiberglass jobs with all the bells an' whistles they got now. Ah remember heppin' yore Daddy build boat docks an' barges with oil drums an' handsawed lumber. I been thankin' about that lately, an' Ah thank Ah'm gonna buy me a pontoon boat. We could have a lotta fun."
Mel recalled the long evenings on the Brazos River, when folks would take a Coleman lantern down to the riverbank and fish with a cane pole or tightline or troll up and down the river for gar.
"We'd git us a mess o' nahtcrawlers er helgemites an' camp by the river. We'd fish, swat skeeters, an' tell stories all naht, an' swang out into the water on grapevines or go grabblin' under rocks by day," he said. "We made punchbait from shad, minners an' soured milk, an' then add some limberger cheese an' cattails. We always put cattails in our punch bait to make it stay on the hook."
That did it for me. I said, "Well, I knew folks used chicken livers, cut up kidneys, blood bait, and all kinds of innerds for fish bait, but I don't think I ever knew a soul who'd stoop so low as to cut off cats' tails!"
