Pretty little girl. Fell for that old plastic worm trick. Again.
She’s grown some since I last caught her. Lip’s healed.
I was chatting with the folks, my parental units, via my cell’s speaker, and I was dragging a little worm through the water. I watched as I saw something shadow the bait, I paused, and then I pulled her on up.
“Hey, I’ve got to call you back, I just caught a fish.”
Then I was talking to the little fish, “You. Hold. Still. Don’t bite me! I’m trying to get that hook out of you lip.” Then I had a few cross words with Miss Bass.
Picture, unhook her, and let her free, “There, grow up some, we’ll tangle again.”
She took off with a quick flip, gone from the dock at Shady Acres.
Got another one, same kind of worm, later in the day. Life is good. Fish are biting. In fact, fish are biting back. Funny thing, that fish I caught, while I was talking to a client, the second fish? Because I was juggling a feisty bass, a phone, fishing rod, and trying to get a picture? Fish jumped back in the water before I could dig the hook out of him. Now, that’s twice, with that one client. I’m sure I’m bringing her the same kind of luck.
“Stop wishing, go fishing.”
