Fishing tales, farm plans

Grandpa and I worked on the apartment forms yesterday evening for an hour or so. Neither of us was really interested in going too far. He will do some leveling on the gravel backfill today after he and Mama get back from a cattle sale they are going to. We will be ready for the contractor on Thursday. It will be good to see it done.


Mama and I spent an hour or so down at the pond and caught fifteen bass. Mama caught four or five and I caught the rest. We were using lures so there was no live bait involved. Mama really got into it after the first bite. It was all catch and release but we caught three that would have been keepers if we were looking to eat the catch. Most were smaller to little to little bitty but they put up enough of a fight that Mama was thrilled by it.

Dodger went with us and I really wish he had not. Everything to him is a game of “catch”. Even as Grandpa and I shoveled dirt in the forms, Dodger had to pounce on each and every shovel full of dirt as it landed. It can be very distracting. Anyway, he got to the pond well ahead of me and Mama and was pacing up and down the shoreline waiting for the fun to begin. On my first cast I hooked a pretty good bass and he knew what was coming.

Of course, I released the bass and Dodger went after it. I gave the pole to Mama as he swam back to shore and it was not long before she hooked one. Dodger was shivering and whining in anticipation. He dove after that released fish also – and so it went on throughout the entire time we were down there. When we were not reeling in a catch he would whine and pace until he knew one was hooked, then he assumed his pouncing stance ready to make every effort to catch something, anything.

As we were leaving, Mama walked up on the dam to see how Grandpa was doing. He was mowing the pasture below the dam at the far corner of our property; outlining it for Mama to finish up today and tomorrow. I had to make one more cast. It was a good cast and I hooked a fair sized bass. As I released it I gave Dodger a sporting chance. I usually throw the fish into deep enough water to let it quickly get away.

This time, instead, I put the fish in at the water’s edge and Dodger was on it in an instant. Between the fish splashing in his frantic effort to get to deeper water and Dodger splashing in his frantic attempt to contain the wriggling fish, I got thoroughly covered with muddy water. The fish got away unharmed. Dodger was finally satisfied. I wiped the mud splatters off of my glasses, gathered the tackle and tackle box and headed to the top of the dam to catch up to Mama. Everyone had a good time – except the fish.

My guineas came home yesterday afternoon. Grandpa put them up in the coop they consider home now, so we could look them over. They appear to be fine and Mama and I are talking about getting three females to go with what she is convinced are all males. Regardless of which is which, we will attempt to get the ones that Mama says look different. It would be nice to raise our own. I am told that the islanders really like to eat roasted guinea. I will have to try it.

Mama is also convinced that she will get the fainting goats when and if we start a herd. So convinced she will not hear about any other variety of goats being purchased for the farm. Again, I will have to eat one to see if it is a viable option. It would be impractical to have a farm filled with pets. We are not trying to mimic the “Little patch of Heaven” farming model.

At least that is not my intent.