Eagle Creek was the setting, which meant trapsing over a fence through a cow pasture, with cows across a field through a little woodsy area and down a slight hill to the creek. At this time it was a nice flow of water and a perfect setting to fish. With cane poles, rods, tackle box, some sandwiches, we were set to make an afternoon of it.
My heart conjures up a man that worked so hard for his family, that took the time to enjoy the little pleasures in life to share with us something that made him happy as well. He would take the time to set each one of us up with a cane pole, and we learned how to put the bobber on as well. Quite a bit of time past before he even had his own pole set up before one of us got our hook stuck on something or we actually caught a fish, more than likely a sunfish, and not big enough to be taken away from its own mother.
I vaguely remember him running back and forth to see if he caught anything while taking care of us. I know there were some frustrating moments for him and I can’t imagine there not being any considering the circumstances. At the end of the day the the stringer that held a variety of fish were proof positive it was a successful jaunt across hill and dale to a little creek that made a nice memory and alot of work for a hard working man.
The work wasn’t quite over yet, still alot to be done but what a memory and an impression it was going to make in the life of bustersdaughter.
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