It seems every time I see families together at events, cell phones are the center of everyone’s attention. Children and adults are constantly talking on their phones or texting. Just look around restaurants when you are eating. Cell phones are always interrupting conversations.
Do you remember when times were simpler? There were no cell phone interruptions and it didn’t cost an arm and leg to have family fun. Entertainment was not a “package deal” like the ones you can buy now at Disney World. Times have certainly changed, but I have precious memories of simpler times and pleasures.
One summer Saturday more than 50 years ago, my daddy borrowed Wynn Howard’s little Cub tractor and trailer and all 10 of us piled in and went fishing. We rode through the woods on an old timber trail that led us to Tom’s Creek — our favorite fishing area. We packed the iron frying pan, grease, cornmeal, salt and a fork for frying the fish. Several cans of pork and beans, a loaf of bread and a couple gallons of tea rounded out the meal.
For bait, we brought crickets, grasshoppers, July flies, coffee cans filled with earthworms and even a few white sawyers that we dug from dead trees.
We finally arrived, parked the tractor and everyone grabbed their poles and bait and went their separate way. My older sisters stayed around the trailer with pa. I found my favorite spot of clear blue-green water under the weeping willows at the edge of the creek.
After about an hour and a half of catching nothing, I rolled my line up and went back to the tractor. That was a big mistake. Daddy came along and saw me sitting there. He threatened to whip me if I didn’t get my pole back into the water and help catch enough fish for dinner.
I baited my hook and slung it back under the tree. Right as the cricket hit the water, the cork plunged downward. I struggled, but finally pulled up a big redbreast bream. He was as big as daddy’s hand! Excited, I re-cast my line and the same thing happened over and over until I had a dozen redbreasts. I was so proud of my catch — my pile was bigger than the others.
The smell of fish frying over an oak fire soon permeated the air. Is there anything that smells better? We all had plenty to eat and a short time to rest before trying our luck for a few more hours.
The day ended much too soon and daddy, mama, pa, Josephine, Susie, Hazel, Lois, Helen, Tommy and I loaded onto the tractor and trailer for our long, slow, bumpy ride back to our log cabin.
That was one of the most pleasant days I can remember enjoying with my whole family. Oh, how pleasant it is to reminisce about the simpler times in our lives.
Do you remember when times were simpler? There were no cell phone interruptions and it didn’t cost an arm and leg to have family fun. Entertainment was not a “package deal” like the ones you can buy now at Disney World. Times have certainly changed, but I have precious memories of simpler times and pleasures.
One summer Saturday more than 50 years ago, my daddy borrowed Wynn Howard’s little Cub tractor and trailer and all 10 of us piled in and went fishing. We rode through the woods on an old timber trail that led us to Tom’s Creek — our favorite fishing area. We packed the iron frying pan, grease, cornmeal, salt and a fork for frying the fish. Several cans of pork and beans, a loaf of bread and a couple gallons of tea rounded out the meal.
For bait, we brought crickets, grasshoppers, July flies, coffee cans filled with earthworms and even a few white sawyers that we dug from dead trees.
We finally arrived, parked the tractor and everyone grabbed their poles and bait and went their separate way. My older sisters stayed around the trailer with pa. I found my favorite spot of clear blue-green water under the weeping willows at the edge of the creek.
After about an hour and a half of catching nothing, I rolled my line up and went back to the tractor. That was a big mistake. Daddy came along and saw me sitting there. He threatened to whip me if I didn’t get my pole back into the water and help catch enough fish for dinner.
I baited my hook and slung it back under the tree. Right as the cricket hit the water, the cork plunged downward. I struggled, but finally pulled up a big redbreast bream. He was as big as daddy’s hand! Excited, I re-cast my line and the same thing happened over and over until I had a dozen redbreasts. I was so proud of my catch — my pile was bigger than the others.
The smell of fish frying over an oak fire soon permeated the air. Is there anything that smells better? We all had plenty to eat and a short time to rest before trying our luck for a few more hours.
The day ended much too soon and daddy, mama, pa, Josephine, Susie, Hazel, Lois, Helen, Tommy and I loaded onto the tractor and trailer for our long, slow, bumpy ride back to our log cabin.
That was one of the most pleasant days I can remember enjoying with my whole family. Oh, how pleasant it is to reminisce about the simpler times in our lives.