Year last the ole fat boy obtained hybrid bass and bream and "stocked" the ubiquitous ranch pond/tank with future protein, fun, and enrichment.
Mother Nature had other ideas and the seven year drought "sucked" the water from that ever so precious water hole and the ranch "babies" evaporated before predators, heat, and all manner of depredation.
Life begins anew in the spring and this fine 2012 begins (after heavy rain) with the introduction of channel catfish to their piscatorial garden of Eden.
The fond memories of the ranch hand's grandmother includes her homemade "bonnet" and long sleeved/long hemmed dresses as she gathered her bamboo pole and beef liver to saunter to her brother Charlie's pond to collect supper for her and Granvil.
More often than not, that fine lady would return from her pasture adventure with a wriggling recalcitrant channel slider ripe for the skillet with a grin on her face that could brighten any moonless night.
For you, my dearest Ola Mae, I dedicate this renewal of a catfish garden for your heavenly pleasure.
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2 comments:
good post,,
My grandmother was the closest thing to a "saint" I have ever known....course to have balance in the world...her grandson was...maybe a little below that standard????
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