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Dad was loadin' rods and tackle, I was addin' fuel, as Mom hopped on with a picnic lunch that balmy afternoon. Another Sunday outing on the lake - our old routine - as sister Susie tossed the final tie to the old pontoon. "We're runnin' low on crappie," father broke the morning still, "and folks are sayin' they're bitin' near the cattails in the bay." "Sandy Baxter claims he caught a couple dozen catfish just outside o' Gator Slew," I countered..."yesterday!" "Anyone who bets their life on Sandy Baxter's stories better have their will filled out," my sister promptly said, "Stake your life on findin' fish where Baxter claims they're bitin' almost guarantees ya' that you're bound to wind up dead!" "Sandy's not that bad 'o guy," Mom was quick to counter, "yes, he does exaggerate, but lots o' people do, And he can't hold a candle to the - 'one-that-got-aways' - that me an' Sue have heard a million times from Dad an' you!" Mom was right...Dad and I were dedicated anglers...tackle-nerds since way back when - we'd fish from Spring to Fall. While Mom, a wee bit nosy...make that - dedicated snoop...not the least concerned if we were catchin' fish at all, Often donned a veiled sombrero - hiding her binoculars - and spent her time critiquing what she thought were newer homes! A quirky little trait of hers, but one in which I learned I'd often manage finding ample fodder for my poems! Susie used the outings both for - working on her tan - and trying to land a fish or two, if Dad would bait her hook, Claiming that her sun tan lotion tainted what she'd touch, explaining why her offering was the one least often took! "Fish can't smell your sun tan lotion," Dad would come unglued, "what your problem really is is...you don't like the slime!" "That's not true," Sue countered..."I can actually hear them scream," but, just to get her anglin', he'd appease her every time. From 2 to 4 we'd troll the shoreline figurin' we'd find bluegills, then wander out a couple hundred yards and try for bass. Dad was well acquainted with the lake - he knew the hot spots - and taught us things like what to use when fishin' over grass. Mom would tap the picnic basket 'round about 5 p.m., servin' up what each of us perceived a tasty snack. Tuna salad sandwiches were me an' Dad's first choice, and cold iced tea was what we'd all requested her to pack. The gals would always share a bag of tiny powdered doughnuts and split a corn beef sandwich with a slice o' cheese, on rye, Plus all of us got little bags of chips and candy bars...a finer meal, we all believed, not even kings could buy! I miss those lovely family outings more than I can say. Mom and Dad have now been gone for close to seven years, Susan passed away last month, and I - a childless bachelor, who's spent at least a couple thousand lonely nights in tears, Am out here fishin' crappie with - a tuna salad sandwich, cold ice tea, a candy bar and chips, this gorgeous day - And pleased to tell the three of you - I'm dying to see you all - and, with the help I got from Doctor Hobbs...I'm on my way!
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