Memories

[jakemex]

This morning while reading the forums, I got to thinking about 38 years ago when my father-in-law would be down on the town square in Piggott, Arkansas (pop.~ 4000) in Northeast Arkansas, a very few miles South of the Missouri Bootheel. Trading pocket knives of all description and chewing the fat around the "whittlin' tree". Chips and curls of cedar, white and rust colored covering the ground near the tree and benches with a handful of reg'lars. Man, would I like to be back there in April and thru the summer. Trotlines, catfish, turtles, water moccasins and the whole gamut. Just dreamin' on a Monday morning with my coffee and Case slimline trapper. AHHHHhhhhhhhhmmmm. :sentimental:

 

[Peregrin]

That's a nice picture you are painting there. I wouldn't mind sharing one of those benches. Thanks for posting it.

 

[Doug Add]

Nice!

You jogged my memory a bit this morning. I remember one summer Indiana day on the lake with my granddad and great uncle (both named Jay by the way -- my great uncle Jay married my granddad's youngest sister). I was probably 7 or 8 at the time. After what seemed like hours in the boat watching them pull in fish after fish, and me not getting a single bite, I finally complained to my granddad that there must be something wrong with my fishin' pole. Granddad set his down in the boat, took mine from me, cast into the lake and pulled in a live one within a minute!

He handed it back to me and simply said, "It's not the pole, son."

 

[jakemex]

Nice!

You jogged my memory a bit this morning. I remember one summer Indiana day on the lake with my granddad and great uncle (both named Jay by the way -- my great uncle Jay married my granddad's youngest sister). I was probably 7 or 8 at the time. After what seemed like hours in the boat watching them pull in fish after fish, and me not getting a single bite, I finally complained to my granddad that there must be something wrong with my fishin' pole. Granddad set his down in the boat, took mine from me, cast into the lake and pulled in a live one within a minute!

He handed it back to me and simply said, "It's not the pole, son."

Yeah, been there too as a kid. It just seemed that just their having touched the hook etc. the fish came a runnin'. I've been "skunked" many times since.

 

[Thalestin]

Great memories guys, thanks a bunch.