Sometimes cutting grass on the yard of the summer cottage is hard. Today it was. It was hot and humid. There were horseflies that circled me and when I got into shade, an occasional mosquito. Still, it had to be done.
The lawnmower was not also doing its job properly. First I had to keep it in a sunny place for an hour before it could be used, otherwise it would not start. Then there was the fact that the gear was not working, so I had to push it. Sweaty, tedious work.
My sons were certainly having fun. They could swim in the lake to their hearts content. My wife was making food. I needed a beer.
I noticed my younger son was actually at the pier, throwing a lure to the lake. He was doing the best he could, meticulously reeling it back in. I wondered how many lures he had already lost. Never mind, at least he was trying.
Now he was shouting at the top of his lungs. My first thought was that again a lure had got stuck. Then I heard the words. DADDY DADDY! A FISH! I GOT A FISH!
I rushed to see what he got. He was hanging a small perch by the line. The fish was still alive. I had to keep a straight face and thought that this has to be educational. Nice fish! Are you going to eat it? Of course I am!
So I took my Leatherman out and twisted the hook out of the poor creatures mouth. I took a big bucket, filled it with water and put it in a shady place. We released the small perch in the bucket to wait for its faith.
My son was, of course, very eager to continue. He got another small perch. Oh the joy. Later that evening I took the boat and we went to the lake to pull a lure behind the boat. We got some more, not much, but I reminded myself that this means more to him than me.
When we got on the shore I changed the water in the bucket and hoped that our catch would be alive next morning. The mosquitos were out in swarms and next morning would be a good time to gut and clean those fish.
Morning came. Son and I got those fish out of the bucket, to my astonishment all alive. I took my puukko, cut the throats of those poor creatures and started the lecture on gutting fish. Take the blade between your fingers like this, hold this finger along the spine like this. Why? Because that way you will not puncture the guts and ruin the fish. I showed him how to press the tip in near the tail, open the belly and then scoop the guts out.
Son followed my instruction pretty well. The puukko was familiar to him, it hung on my belt most of the time when we were at the cottage. The process was slow but it got done, most difficult was to get the scales off. So, how will we cook those fish? They are small so there is no point in filleting them. Maybe fish soup? He nodded. So we got some potatoes and onions. The rest was easy, peeling the potatoes, cutting onions and then just some water, salt, spices and that was it. Get the water boiling, everything in. Cook for 20 minutes. Done!
I watched him as we were eating. Luckily the bones in those fish were small, even so they were troublesome, but the soup was tasty. The feeling was very solemn. First catch. Want to try again this evening? Sure he said, with all the seriousness of a 5 year old. I smiled, feeling a deep gratitude for something and someone. Maybe it was just life I felt the gratitude for. Next time you can do the cleaning with my puukko, is that ok? Very seriously he nodded.
The lawnmower was not also doing its job properly. First I had to keep it in a sunny place for an hour before it could be used, otherwise it would not start. Then there was the fact that the gear was not working, so I had to push it. Sweaty, tedious work.
My sons were certainly having fun. They could swim in the lake to their hearts content. My wife was making food. I needed a beer.
I noticed my younger son was actually at the pier, throwing a lure to the lake. He was doing the best he could, meticulously reeling it back in. I wondered how many lures he had already lost. Never mind, at least he was trying.
Now he was shouting at the top of his lungs. My first thought was that again a lure had got stuck. Then I heard the words. DADDY DADDY! A FISH! I GOT A FISH!
I rushed to see what he got. He was hanging a small perch by the line. The fish was still alive. I had to keep a straight face and thought that this has to be educational. Nice fish! Are you going to eat it? Of course I am!
So I took my Leatherman out and twisted the hook out of the poor creatures mouth. I took a big bucket, filled it with water and put it in a shady place. We released the small perch in the bucket to wait for its faith.
My son was, of course, very eager to continue. He got another small perch. Oh the joy. Later that evening I took the boat and we went to the lake to pull a lure behind the boat. We got some more, not much, but I reminded myself that this means more to him than me.
When we got on the shore I changed the water in the bucket and hoped that our catch would be alive next morning. The mosquitos were out in swarms and next morning would be a good time to gut and clean those fish.
Morning came. Son and I got those fish out of the bucket, to my astonishment all alive. I took my puukko, cut the throats of those poor creatures and started the lecture on gutting fish. Take the blade between your fingers like this, hold this finger along the spine like this. Why? Because that way you will not puncture the guts and ruin the fish. I showed him how to press the tip in near the tail, open the belly and then scoop the guts out.
Son followed my instruction pretty well. The puukko was familiar to him, it hung on my belt most of the time when we were at the cottage. The process was slow but it got done, most difficult was to get the scales off. So, how will we cook those fish? They are small so there is no point in filleting them. Maybe fish soup? He nodded. So we got some potatoes and onions. The rest was easy, peeling the potatoes, cutting onions and then just some water, salt, spices and that was it. Get the water boiling, everything in. Cook for 20 minutes. Done!
I watched him as we were eating. Luckily the bones in those fish were small, even so they were troublesome, but the soup was tasty. The feeling was very solemn. First catch. Want to try again this evening? Sure he said, with all the seriousness of a 5 year old. I smiled, feeling a deep gratitude for something and someone. Maybe it was just life I felt the gratitude for. Next time you can do the cleaning with my puukko, is that ok? Very seriously he nodded.
