I was sitting outside reading and soaking up the sun when a strange truck pulled in the drive this morning. Two guys from out of town that are contractors with the oil field up the road were wondering if they'd be able to fish in our reservoir. We chatted a bit and I called to ask The Prairie Daddy if it was okay. He said yes and the guys went on their way. I did ask them to let me know if they caught anything and with what kind of bait.
This afternoon they stopped back in and brought us this fish. My dad was an AVID, DIE-HARD fisherman. He lived to fish (and eat) : ). I gladly took the fish. I brought it in and told The Prairie Kid to grab a stool so he could watch me gut the fish. Here is a picture of the fish before I "took care" of it.
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And for dinner tonight we made the cornmeal-battered trout that my dad used to make. It warmed my heart to get to do this today.
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I miss you, Dad. Wish we could go fish together.
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2 comments:
Erin...
Your Dad would be so PROUD of you! Enjoyed your thoughts.
Sally
Thank you, Sally!
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