|Posted by Bobby Bass on January 12, 2017 at 3:50 PM||comments (0)|
9 IN THE BOAT HERE ON HIDDEN BAY thia afternoon,yesterday as planned Duncan and I went to the Lodge to work the afternoon shift, at least I did. Duncan would make his rounds of the main room then head back to the bar to be with me or so I thought. He would come around the bar to lie at my feet close to the cooler. He would soon be asleep and I found out why. The cooler of course exhausts warm air from a fan and where he was sleeping the fan was sending out a constant wave of warm air. I bent down to pet him and felt the warm breeze. I had Gus toss a rug down there and Duncan adjusted it to his liking and he slept most of the afternoon away.
Business was slow but that I think is because the ice fishermen were on the ice then as on Thursday it going to be a real cold one. Couple of guys were talking fishing so I rolled down on my stool and took a towel and started to dry beer mugs that were not wet. The guys were a couple of lodge members and they were fly fishermen and they were talking weight of lines and length of rods. I tried to remember the last time I went fly fishing and I could not remember when. I of course do remembered the last time I went fishing for trout though.
It was a hot summer afternoon three fishing seasons ago. The bass thermometer had its skinny red needle resting just above ninety. Too hot to mow, heck it was too hot to sit on the deck. I went to the garage and open the fridge, a couple of cold beers looked back at me but I reached way in the back where I had crawlers resting. I open the lid and a fat crawler ducked back under the cover of the moss. That was not going to save him as I took the box to the work bench and flipped the box over and let the moss and worms fall out. A quick count showed I had twenty lively worms and one dead one. Back in the box they went and I grabbed my canvas fishing bag hanging from the rafter in the back of the garage. I put the worms in the bag and as I passed the fridge I grabbed the two beers.
Towels were hanging from the clothes line so I grabbed one and rolled the beers up in it. I then tossed it in my bag and the bag went in the Tahoe. In the cabin I went and the old ultra light rod came off the rack and a small tackle box marked TROUT were carried to the kitchen. I left a note for the wife, went in the fridge and took out the brown paper lunch bag then asked all three dogs if they wanted to take a ride. Duncan was waiting at the Tahoe and Bud and Barney took their time walking slow to the truck.
Rod in the truck and tackle box and lunch in the fishing bag. Duncan hopped up in the truck and I had to help Barney in and Bud of course rode shotgun. I cracked the windows open but turn the a/c on high and we headed off to a little honey hole I know in a creek not too far away. When we arrived the a/c was blasting out cold air and Barney did not want to leave the back seat. Duncan was out and running in the tall green grass like a kid his age would. I open the door for Bud and had to coax him out by saying he could go swimming. He then got out, sniffed the air and headed to the creek which was short walk away. I left the back door cracked open some so if Barney wanted to come he could get out. I grabbed my gear put a hat on and off to the creek I went.
I waded in the cool water and lost almost all my worms to chubs, I caught one rainbow but he was too small to keep. When the worms were gone I sat up on the bank and cracked a beer open. It went down so fast I don't think I even tasted it. The second beer I sipped then I laid with sleeping damp dogs. The buzz of honey bees and red winged blackbirds telling us we were trespassing surrounded us. I was watching Duncan when one of Duncan's eyes open up and he was looking behind me. A moment later Barney appeared and he bumped me on his way to the creek water. He went in as far as his knees and then he laid down in the cool water. I could almost hear him sigh as the water caressed his old bones. I watched Barney as he laid in the water, eyes half open or half closed depending on how you were looking. A doe came down to drink on the other side of the creek and everyone looked at each other but no one bother to bother each other, it was just too hot.
I know we stayed there for awhile. I went in and out of the water a few times. No need for the towel as the heat of the afternoon dried me off in just a few minutes. I shared my lunch with the dogs and drank the bottle of water in the brown bag. Thinking back I think that was the last time that me and all three dogs went some place together. We should have done it more and I should have taken the time to remember what we did. If I am so lucky to get out this summer I will think of Barney as I am looking forward to wading in the creek and feeling the cool water on my knees, I hope I sigh like Barney did as he took his time to get to the creek and then took the time to enjoy the water. I am going to make the time to take the time to stop and smell the roses here at Lake Iwanttobethere.
|Posted by Bobby Bass on March 8, 2016 at 12:25 PM||comments (0)|
FIRST OFF I believe that nothing is impossible but a lot of things are highly improbable, Having made that statement I believe in ghosts. During my long stay in the hospital any kind of really good sleep was next to impossible to get. With the drugs I was taking I had more than a few wild dreams interrupted. Most dreams were quickly forgotten but one has hung with me now for more then a week, I was in my hospital bed and the room door was ajar. The bathroom door was open a crack with the light on. The sliver of light from the bathroom that fell into the room was just enough for the nurses and lab people to check on me, It was past two in the morning when I woke up. I didn't open my eyes all the way as I was expecting a nurse was going to be the reason I woke up. Instead I got the impression someone was in my room but I did not see anyone, I rolled on to my side and looked through the side rail of the bed to see my old dog Bud looking back at me.
White face and his sweet old tired eyes looked back at me and his tail was slowly waging with a purpose brushing the curtain that hangs from the ceiling in front of the door. I blinked my eyes trying to get them in focus. He stood looking at me like he had been there for awhile. Bud took a few steps closer to the bed and was in reach of my hand that I had stuck through the side rail, I heard him whine his familiar whine and he leaned forward to lick my hand, just once, I asked him if he wanted me to follow him but instead he turned away from the bed and walked to the curtain. He looked over his broad brown back and me and gave me a soft little ruff growl that sounded like a no. Then he walked into the curtain and was gone.
The dream is the only one of many that I had, but it is the only one I remember, I think he was telling me that Bud and his brother Barney are not yet ready to show me their new hunting grounds. Was it a dream or was it Buds ghost checking on me, I want to think it was his ghost. Here at Lake Iwanttobethere anything can be possible,
|Posted by Bobby Bass on July 7, 2015 at 4:15 PM||comments (0)|
"WHY DON'T YOU just go down and see Big Earl at the General Store and buy a new one?" That is what the wife said to me as she stood in the doorway of the wood shop. On the center table I had the old wood and metal bench that spends three hundred and sixty-five days of the year on the shore here on the hidden bay of Lake Iwanttobethere. Earlier in the day I had driven the garden tractor down to the shoreline and picking up the bench I had balanced it on the hood of the tractor with one hand as I drove with the other. Once I got it to the wood shop I carried it inside and put it up on the cleared center work table. It needed work.
I don't remember when we got it or where it came from I do remember that Barney like to sit on it when he was a pup till he discovered the dock and fish. From ice off till ice back on everyday Barney would spend some time sitting on the end of the dock, staring into the water and watching little fish and big fish. Keeping ducks off the dock and daring the geese to even try and come up on his shore. Even for a big dog Barney sat tall and if you did not know he was a real dog and not some statue on the end of the dock he startled more then his fair share of fishermen when they came close. I spent time sitting on the dock with Barney but I also spent time sitting on the old bench watching Barney watch.
The old bench looked even worse now that I had it inside and out of the grass. The metal sides that held the wood slats were rusted and I was missing a board. Several other boards were rotting away and it was probably a good idea I had brought the bench to the shop before someone sat on it and broke the boards and rolled into the lake. The wife shook her head at me and I poked and prodded some. I spoke out loud that she may be right, might be better off just to go buy a new one and toss this one in the burn pile. The wife turned and walked away and I sat on my stool looking at the old bench. To many layers of green paint to count on it and more rust then black paint on the metal. I don't even know what kind of wood was used on the back and seat. Some kind of imported hard wood I guessed.
I had a scrapper close to hand and I picked it up and picked at a few flakes of paint. I got to thinking about Barney and how when I sat on the bench and watched him at sunset it was the perfect picture that I never had time to take. Never wanted to get up and lose the moment getting a camera so I would just watch him watching. After a while I started tossing a bobber off the dock with a sucker under it, figured if Barney was going to just sit there and watch I might as well give him something to watch. Little did I know that he became a pretty good fishermen and it got so I could tell by his barks if I was getting a nibble or if something was running with the bait. He even started watching Elmer's bobber too on the next dock over.
I kept picking away at the peeling paint and I made a decision. I was going to fix the bench and put it back out on the shore, right where I can watch Barney at sunset. Something's should be fixed and not just tossed away because they are broke and cheaper to replace. Something's have memories that need to be saved. To someone floating past the shoreline it will just be an old bench sitting in the deep grass looking out over the lake but to me it is a place to keep watching Barney and sunsets here at Lake Iwanttobethere
|Posted by Bobby Bass on June 26, 2015 at 1:35 AM||comments (0)|
MY FLIP FLOPS made a slapping noise as I walked across the floor here in the Main Room of the RESORT. I came up yesterday between thunderstorms. Scattered across the booths and chairs was an assortment of rain gear. Boots were tipped over on the floor and the ceiling fan was wobbling on high. Hoods flapped a little and the smell of the lake was thick in the air. I reached down to pick up my right boot and saw that someone thought they were funny because a minnow was swimming in my boot. I carried the boot with the minnow back to the BAIT ROOM where I dumped the water and the minnow into the tank. The big Hamms wall clock was off a few hours as we had lost power for a while last night and I thought maybe I should reset it but I didn't know the time at the time.
We were sitting in the boat last night and we could see the dark clouds heading in our direction. Three across the bench seat we sat as we could just make out the warning siren from the town of Lake Iwanttobethere. Elmer sat on my right and Chuck on my left we all kind of cocked our ear to the sound of the wailing siren. Elmer was the first to speak asking if we should seek shelter. Chuck shook his head no and said this is the kind of stuff memories are made of, stories to tell grand kids or exchange for a beer at the Lodge. Elmer nodded his head in agreement and told us he was proud of us boys, it was his idea to get in the boat in the first place.
A few drops fell and they splattered on the floor of the boat like we were in a paint ball war. Big drops that left big marks. Elmer passed me his lighter and I put flame to my cigar before passing the lighter to Chuck. We would have a little contest to see who could keep their cigar lit the longest. The wind picked up and the waves started to build. Maple trees were having their seeds torn from the upper branches and they were reaching out all the way to us. I had my hood up and I could hear the seed pods bounce of the back of my head along with the drops of rain that were getting harder to pick out as there was now so many of them.
I was startled at the first bolt of lightning that tore open the sky right above our heads and the peal of thunder a second later shook the seat or maybe it was Chuck. Elmer leaned back in the bench seat making a point to show us how comfortable he was wearing his yellow rain slicker that he wore when he was in the merchant marines. The big hood covered his face and just the curl of smoke came out from under it. A steady stream of water ran down his slicker to fall off and land directly on the top of my right boot. We could no longer talk, the rain was too loud and now the thunder was a constant rumble. The sky was dark but flashes of light lit up the lake for as far as one could see. We could see the waves rolling in on us and perfectly timed we watched as a big big wave gathered itself and took shape. With each flash of lightning the wave top got closer and I will admit I was looking for something to grab onto but the shore broke the waves back and it collapsed on itself just short of us.
One by one our cigars went out, I was doing good till the wind caught the brim of Chuck's hat and tossed a pint of water directly into my face. I think it was planned but shortly there after his cigar went out to. A rain drop the size of a cruise missile took the red tip right off and I chuckled loudly enough for Chuck to hear me. We could not tell about Elmer's. We could not see his face under the yellow rain slickers hood. Actually now that I think of it I might just have seen his breath and no smoke at all. We sat in the boat for awhile longer and rode out the storm. Somewhere in there the power went out at the RESORT but we didn't even notice. Water sloshed deep on the floor and I thought maybe I should turn on the bilge pump but it did not really matter, my feet were soaking wet. With the lightning slowing and the rain letting up some I started humming Ghost Riders in the Sky. Chuck joined in and Elmer started to sing in his old man's raspy voice. Yup, I think we had a memory making moment, good thing we left the boat on the trailer here at Lake Iwanttobethere
|Posted by Bobby Bass on February 19, 2015 at 12:45 PM||comments (0)|
I AM HOPING that last night was or will be the coldest night of the winter. It was cold and it still is out. I went out to start the Tahoe this morning and when I turned the key all I heard was NooooooNooooo. My neighbor Chuck was out at the same time I was and he told me that it was so cold last night that his electricity froze in the line. It was so cold last night that when I got up this morning Duncan the dog was wearing Buff the cat around his neck like a shawl. Old McDonnell the farmer called me and told me it was so cold this morning that when he milked his cows he got Ice Cream. It was so cold this morning that I broke a piece of my beard off. It was so cold that we had to salt the hallway in the cabin. I heard it was so cold in town that the wind froze. This morning the city cleaned Main Street with a zamboni! Was so cold this morning I had to preheat the fireplace before I could start a fire. So cold this morning that the wife had to fry my eggs in 5w30. Was so cold that the FELLOWS were tasering each other to stay warm and last but not least I went over to Elmers and played some checkers, we used lit tea candles as checkers. I guess I am saying it got a little cold up here at Lake Iwanttobethere last night.
This morning I have gotten a few telephone calls and of course some e-mail from friends and relatives. They send me e-mail to tell me how cold it is here at the Lake. I don't know why, I mean I live on the lake and I already know how cold it is. Of course they do make a point to tell me how WARM it is where they live. These are the same people who tell me how dry it is there when it is raining here. Of course now that I think of it I might be returning the favor to them when I tell them about how good fishing has been and when the ten o'clock freight is not blowing its horn it is pretty quiet here on the shores of Lake Iwanttobethere. I tell them of the smell of cedar and pines in the air and try and describe the noise the old wood row boat makes as it rubs against the dock when the small waves of the lake move it. Bees flying low like bombers and dragonflies hovering looking like helicopters as they search for places to land. Hummingbirds dipping into flower tops and deer grazing in the deep grass along the shoreline where the old goose and his mate lead the way for their off spring.
Mayfly hatch and rising bass the snapping noise gills make in the reeds. Muskrats swimming close to shore and beaver slapping tails in the quiet of the bay I live on. The crash landings of loons and bets made on loons trying to take off before running out of water. The rising of a full moon and the howl of a wolf pack under a sky filled with twinkling stars. Duncan the lab walking close with his nose down on a clover covered trail edged in knee high brown grass. The explosive sound of a grouse taking to wing and the boom of a shotgun and the call of Fetch yelled out on a once again quiet trail. Picking wild berries and borrowing eggs from the neighbor's chickens. Maple syrup and harvested honey, hay rides, boat rides, county fairs and demolition derbies. Golf with no carts and sail boat races. Apple pie cooling on window sills and red checkerboard table clothes. Hot buttered sweet corn and dripping chilled slices of watermelon. Blister wieners cooked on an open fire and potato salad with root beer on ice. The distant mooing of a cow as the sun starts to set. OK maybe I do deserve a few emails telling me when it is cold up here or even when it is raining. But all I am doing is reminding them of what they are missing here at Lake Iwanttobethere
|Posted by Bobby Bass on February 15, 2014 at 1:25 AM||comments (0)|
Why do I love to fish, I sometimes ask myself that question. Why do golfer's golf or walkers walk? Why do runners run Why do bird hunters shoot a twelve instead of a twenty? Why do some guys like dogs but other guys like cats. Why do guys fish for walleye and spend thousands on deep hull boats to go backwards in big waves? Why do guys spend days pitching lures bigger than their kid's arms just to see a flash of a following musky and call it a good day. Why do some wade in chest deep water in a snow melt rushing river dangling a hook with some yarn on it? Why do guys brave sub zero weather to sit on an overturned five gallon pail at sunset on a frozen lake trying to coax a six inch crappie to bite?
Why do guys circle the dates on a calendar for their next fishing trip when their boots are not dry yet from the one they just returned from. Why do guys keep journals and jot down everything about the day they just had while others write down nothing but instead just go out and do it again. Fishing starts off as something to do with an old rod and a coffee can of fresh dug worms. You walk the bank of the local pond or creek and drown worms trying to catch something that swims. Maybe you are lucky enough to find a frog or even a crayfish to go for the big one. Sometimes you are lucky enough to be friend a fishing buddy and the two of you grow up together and keep fishing. One of you gets a beater truck or car and now you can travel to fishing spot's afar.
You get better and fish start coming home with you but then you discover girls and fishing is not as great.Time marches on and if you are lucky you and your friend hook up again. Bigger boats and shinny trucks you now go fishing when you can. But as you get older things change some, now you bring your son or daughter along and they remind you of things. The boat sits on the trailer all dry as you walk the banks with a glass jar. Your daughter turns over rocks and things looking for frogs and other squirming things. Feet dangle shoeless off old wood docks and bobbers float calmly just off the rocks. Backs rest against well-worn planks as you look up and see lions and tigers and princess in the clouds that float lazily high overhead.
Time has a way of marching on but I have spent many a moment in a boat or walking the banks of a stream and it seems like I was just there yesterday. I have some places that I been fishing for fifty years but they never seem to change. I think of the big round rock just off the shore at the lake. Does not look any different even though it has seen fifty winters and fifty summers since I first fished from it. Millions of waves and who knows how many bare feet have stood on it and casting out into the lake. The only thing that has changed is me I guess, as getting up on that rock is not as easy as it once was. When I was a kid I had to wade through the water to climb up on the rock. As I got older I could just jump to it with ease from the shore and now that I am getting old I have to once again wade out to the rock again. But once I am there it is the same, when the water is low it is warm under my toes and I cast out into the lake because that is where the big ones are at, so I was once told.
Why do I love fishing, because it just never grows old here at Lake Iwanttobethere
|Posted by Bobby Bass on February 13, 2014 at 1:05 AM||comments (0)|
SOME BAD NEWS here at Lake Iwanttobethere, Mister Swift has died. Not many people know Mister Swift as he retired many many years ago and pretty much always kept to himself around the lake. The thing is that Big Earl sold Mister Swift his very first power tool from the General Store that came with a life time warranty. With his passing the warranty is now void. I told the Fellows at the Lodge last night that since Mister Swift has died all the lifetime warranties are now void and they will have to buy new tools. This was met with some disbelief but they had been drinking beer since sunset and it does not take much to get them riled up over something. I might have hit a cord with them as they are now upset over having to buy new tools to get a new warranty. I just turned and walked away from the round table as they were already talking about pawning their tools. I might have gone just a tad too far....Nawww
I did find the little story about fishing at the Boat show, it is several years old so some of you visitors to the Lodge may not have seen it so here it is for your consideration.
Several years ago I was in the big city at the annual middle of the winter Boat Show with a bud of mine who had another bud of his working the concession stand who was selling Bud. Well my bud had already had a few to many Buds and was telling me about his special way of catching trout from the pond. He then put down his 75 cents and went behind the rope that kept people back from the portable trout pond, His idea was to snag them...
He tossed the little fly out which he had weighted down with three bottle tops from the Buds he had in his jacket and proceeds to rip the fly through the pond. On his 2nd time through he latched on to a trout which he then reared back setting the hook and yanking the fish out of the pond through the air to land on the top of an elderly lady who had a stocking cap covered in yellow beads. The next rod action was to yank the fish back taking the stocking cap off the head of the now screaming lady and hat and fish fell back into the tank. I guess the yellow beads look like corn as now the 500 trout attacked the stocking hat sending a wave of water over the side of the tank onto the floor. Well it was pretty much down hill from there.
Women started screaming, men started running. Kids chased flopping trout on the cement floor. Then a guy falls into another guy and that guy takes a swing at that guy and misses and hits another guy who falls on the girlfriend of another guy who hits the first guy who falls into the pool. Security rushes in and drags the guy in the pool out but they slip on the edge of the pool and then the pool splits open and before you know it a couple of thousand gallons of water is flowing into the main arena and then sail boat on display gets floated and the mast hits the big net holding the balloons for the final night drawing and they drop all over the place and the band starts playing Danny Boy and it's like the Titanic all over again.. And there I am, just standing in line with my 75 cent ticket and all I want to do is catch a fish.
Here at Lake Iwanttobethere
|Posted by Bobby Bass on November 22, 2013 at 1:00 AM||comments (0)|
If you have been reading Lake Iwanttobethere for any length of time you know that a lot of the stories are based on real events and real people. Yesterday I received word that a reader who has been here from the start and who is a part of Lake Iwanttobethere had his dog Grace pass away.
Dan has had stories written about him as the manager of our local auto parts store and his dog Grace has had several stories written about her. She was a big lovable Saint Bernard that had a love of ice and a unattended drink with cubes in it would soon be missing the cubes if she was around. Grace was Dan's fishing partner and from the first time she was pulled out on the ice in a wood box covered in a blanket till she got big enough to pull the box on the ice she was always at Dan's side. She died from an aliment that big dogs sometimes get and she was gone before she could be helped.
As readers you all know I have a big soft spot for little kids and dogs and today I have a hole that Grace filled. Dan has sent me pictures of Grace as she has grown over the years and writing about her made her a small part mine. I am sharing some of Dan's pain today and I really am sorry for his loss and his family's loss.
Grace is gone but she will not be forgotten, here at Lake Iwanttobethere she will live on and she will continue to get in trouble with Mr. Wilson. You will still have to step over her when you go to the parts store and she will still be seen around town. When the ice covers the water of Lake Iwanttobethere Grace will be there ice fishing with Dan and looking for chucks of ice to chew on and kid's faces to lick. Dan said it best, she was not a dog, she was family.
|Posted by Bobby Bass on November 15, 2013 at 12:50 PM||comments (0)|
THE NIGHT HAD been warm at least warmer then it has been the past week. The puddles of water were not frozen this morning. From my vantage point I leaned against a maple tree and watched the swamp. Sun was already up high enough that it was in my eyes if I turned into it. Not much of a wind so far on this day, just enough to make the top of the swamp grass sway from side to side. I moved my eyes and not my head as I kept watch around me. The sound of an ATV could be heard and I cocked an ear in its direction. Did not sound like it was moving towards me so I blocked it out and focused back on the swamp again. I stood quietly, leaning against the tree watching and listening.
The sun felt good on my face this morning and as I leaned next to the tree I thought how this might be my favorite time of the year. No biting black flies and no skeeters to tend with. Leaves are down on the trees and if you avoided the piles you could move almost ninja like through the forest. Smell of the woods was deep in my nostrils and I faced the wind and I could smell wood smoke. As I watched I saw movement where the Maples thin out to a small clearing and the swamp begins. A hunter was walking down the trail there and as I watched he stopped and looked in my direction. I froze not knowing what to do. This time of the year you don't want to make any sudden movements. The hunter moved on and the wind carried the sound of a broken branch and the crunching of dry leaves.
I strain some to listen to the hunter as he moves away, I am thinking he did not see me but that worries me some. I decide that maybe I should take a walk in the other direction and watching where I step I move away from my resting place. I move along a trail that I have walked several times before. Come to think of it I have walked all of these trails and I already know where the hunter is heading. The trail I am on travels around the swamp and up into some pines, not my favorite place but it is away from the hunter. A red squirrel gives me just a glance as he runs across the forest floor trying to balance a pine cone almost as big as he is in his mouth. Here the ground is covered in pine needles, much quieter to walk in then the dry leaves of the maples.
I see movement ahead and I stop and freeze in my tracks. I see the wide end of a deer slipping into the swamp. Moving just my eyes I watch and wait and I have to make a decision, do I follow? Or do I wait. As slowly as I can I move my head and look around me, I don't hear anything other then the squirrel and I don't see anything. I decide to follow the deer and I slowly raise a leg to look where I put it before moving another. I got to admit my heart is beating a little faster, have not seen a deer for awhile and it takes me a few minutes to get to where I saw the deer. I look around before looking down and I see hoof prints that are deep in the soft ground. I don't hear the ATV and the hunter should be on the other side of the swamp so I think it is safe to move on and so I follow the prints into the swamp.
Not fifty feet into the swamp and I see an even lager set of prints walking over the set that I am following. Heart picks up a few beats as this sure looks like a lot bigger deer. I slow down and being cautious I try and see deeper into the swamp without being seen myself. I move slowly and stop several times. Then I see them, a big doe and an even bigger buck and I am busted! The doe in a single bound bounces into a brush pile and the buck looks at me and snorts, not once but twice. I count his rack and he has twelve points, eight more then me and I start to back off and leave gracefully. I walk back to the edge of the swamp and something is just not right. I put my head down to the ground and I can smell something but can't quite place it. I walk slow and follow my nose. I smell a hunter and I stop and look but see nothing but something round on the ground. I walk over slowly and sniff at it and it smells good so I lick it then pick it up and eat it. I think the hunter call it a cookie and then I see the napkin and if I could read it would say something about a wedding here at Lake Iwanttobethere
|Posted by Bobby Bass on November 14, 2013 at 7:05 PM||comments (0)|
HURRY, HURRY, HURRY I hate to hurry so yesterday I never did make it out to the deer stand. Got the tables and chairs from the wedding back to the Lodge and I got side tracked there. By the time I got out to the Hotel the sun was hanging pretty low in the sky and I just sat down on the old wood rocking chair on the porch and put my feet up on the railing and just relaxed for awhile. Elmer and Marv were inside and it was Elmer's night to cook so stew was on the menu. He was waiting inside for me when I drove up and when I didn't come inside he came out. I looked up from the chair and just said "I hate to hurry" Elmer nodded his head and closed the door, he is the one who taught me about hating the word Hurry.
I suppose if I wanted to I could go inside and grab my knapsack, everything I need is in it. The 30-30 rests in the gun rack just inside the door. If I hurry I might get thirty minutes on the stand before it is too dark to see but there is that word again, hurry. Dropping one foot on the weathered floor of the porch I use the other foot resting on the rail to push the rocker back and forth. There is no sound of creaking wood which is kind of a surprise to me as I rock. The porch got the afternoon sunshine and it feels warm, it is out of the way of the wind and my heavy coat I am sure is keeping any chill off me. The sun dips a little lower, I know this because I have the branches of a maple tree to watch its progress. As the afternoon slips away the sun sinks lower down the branches and is moving towards the thick trunk.
I reach into my big oversized pocket and feel a lump, I pull out a tin foiled wrapped potato and chuckle some to myself. I set the potato on the rail and reaching into my other pocket I come up with a matching tin foiled wrapped potato. I set it alongside the first one, guess I forgot to clean my pockets out after the wedding. Digging a little deeper I come up with two ginger snap cookies wrapped in a wedding napkin. I break one in half and put it in my mouth, not frozen but definitely hard it takes awhile to soften before I can chew it. With the sun going down the shadows are growing longer and reaching out towards the porch. I put my other foot down from the rail and sit up a little taller in the old rocking chair. Both feet on the floor I keep rocking as I munch on the second half of the cookie, the first one I fold back into the napkin and tuck it back away in an inside pocket of my heavy coat.
While I fiddle with the cookie the sun drops behind the Maple tree and darkens seems to double, maybe that is not the way to say it. Let's just say it got real dark real quick. A couple of crows go by, not saying anything but I can hear their wing beats they are so low. I quickly lose them against the back drop of dark branches. Just then a crack of light cuts the porch floor in two and I hear Marv behind me asking if I want some stew. I quietly say "That would hit the spot about right now" The crack of light grows wider and over my shoulder a steaming metal pie pan filled with stew and a couple of biscuits resting on the edge greet me. "Its hot" Marv tells me and hands me a spoon with his other hand. I take the pie pan and spoon and tell Marv thanks. As I turn back in the rocker the light disappears with the soft closing of the door and darkness greets me, night has arrived just like that.
I rest the hot pie pan on the arm of the rocker and scoop stew on to pieces of biscuit and then into my mouth. The sun is gone but the faint light from the moon has replaced it. I know I am making progress on the stew as the moonlight is shinning off the bottom of the pie pan, Elmer hates to do dishes but likes to use pie pans to serve his stew in. It reminds him of his fishing trips when if you didn't catch fish you just had beans to eat off the pans. I finished the stew and set my pan on the railing. Digging a little deeper in my pocket I find a cigar and some wood matches. The night was bright again as I dragged the match across the porch post and put flame to my cigar. I sat back in the rocker and blew a smoke ring that went up and circled the moon, I was in no hurry, here at Lake Iwanttobethere