Grady's first ever fish - Splashed lens and all

 October 3, 2016 - Monday

36 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

That's right, PawPaw's new fishing partner appeared on Sunday in the form of a thirty-five lb dynamo. We received a phone call mid morning asking if we might watch Grady for the day. Macrea, Mel, and Sargie's oldest son, Cale, were replacing an old deck and it seems Grady wasn't a great deal of help. We agreed to meet them halfway between here and Iron Mountain for the Grady exchange.

There's nothing more fun than playing with one of Grandma Sargie's umbrellas.

I spent the first part of the morning installing the crisper drawer from an old refrigerator under the lathe bench in the shop. It was a jury rigged process at best, but it's functional. I wanted something in which to keep the various lathe parts together so one or the other wouldn't get lost.

We all met Grady halfway and made the exchange. When I mentioned that we might go fishing, his excitement level rose to off the charts. Though he had no idea what "going fishing" meant, he was ready.

It was a beautiful day and Ol' Hambone must have caught twenty bluegills on his first twenty tries.... all three and four inches long. 

Sargie and I knew a place where the small ones congregate and honestly, when a fisherman is two years old, who cares what size the fish are, as long as they bite!

We discovered a few of things yesterday on Grady's maiden fishing trip:

1) He's not afraid to try anything. Though he really doesn't like flopping fish and getting splashed, catching them doesn't bother him a bit.

2) PawPaw needs to learn to have more patience. It's been almost thirty years since I took a two-year-old fishing. 

3) It appears as though PawPaw is going to have a full time fishing partner in his old age. Grady wanted to do it all, cast, catch fish, go through the tackle box, put his own straw in the juice box, back the trailer with the boat into the water, etc. I told him to wait another year or two and I'd let him do all those things, all by himself, especially insert his own straw into the juice box.

So the afternoon flew by. We arrived home tired and happy. The fresh air had worn everyone out, so much so that the mere act of enjoying a peanut butter sandwich required too much effort.

Sargie and Grady will head to Iron Mountain this morning, Grady to his mommy's, Sargie to the Vision Center. I'm going to walk my five miles then I think I'll go fishing and see if I can't find a few bluegills big enough to bring home for a fish fry.

It's time to rock 'n roll. Baths have to be taken and Cheerios eaten before the Grady package can be loaded into his carseat and taken home.

After all, a man's work is never done.

By the way, we call my other half Saint Grandma Sargie. She's the good lookin' one with lots of patience!

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...