The sound of fishing

I wasn't quite up for the 5:30 am search for walleye. Nor the 6:30, 7:30 or 8:30 search for walleye. My own eyes were shut tight until well past 9. I staggered down to the store to buy pancake syrup and kind of had breakfast ready when the Mosiman fishing party arrived back at the cabin.

Another use for a baby wipe

Reinvigorated by a hearty morning meal and a power nap, our family boarded the boat to find us some fish. I realized that I had neglected to pack a hat or suntan lotion. As a 4th grade teacher, this is a BIG problem. If I get a sunburn, my students will fixate on my red face and will be unable to learn for the entire day. MacGyver-style, I ransacked the pontoon boat for a solution. (see picture)




A brewing thunderstorm threatened the success of our fishing experience. After twenty-five years of being married to an avid fisherman, I've picked up some pretty specific skills of my own. Responding immediately to my bouncing bobber, Brad energetically encouraged me to pick up the fishing pole. "Put your right hand here," Brad said, overly-urgently in my opinion. "Your right hand...the right one...right," he shouted. Jeesh, get a grip, man. "Ok, get ready to set your hook...be firm...ready...and..." I set my hook brilliantly but apparently, in the space of the time it took me to admire my brilliant fishing maneuver, my quarry cleverly escaped. "You have to reel," Brad said in disgust, "not just stand there making sound effects." What?!? Oops. Apparently I have developed a habit of providing sound effects for virtually every move I make. I think it dates back to a lesson on punctuation. Period: bip!  Exclamation point: Whoo-bip! It morphed into my everyday life. Turning on a light switch: flip! Set a hook: pooh! Lose a fish: sigh. The thunderstorm coaxed us to end this particular session of "The One That Got Away Because I'm Incompetent, part XIV."