A
Anonymous
Guest
Dad, only went on one fishing trip with us both and by the way he descibed it later on. One beating by a lady fisherman is enough. Dad, ran the Wizard outboard that day and I chose the middle seat, so Norma would have to take the front and skull paddle us around. But, it did not work to well in our favor for every where we went Norma would catch all the crappie. She had us 10 to our one apiece and Dad said to put her in the middle of the boat that she was too darn lucky. So, no more than she had moved to the middle and we went to another cove and anchored. Norma Jean continued her lucky streak and had her limit of crappie sitting in the middle of the boat.
Dad, looked at her over his glassess and told her if she caught one more fish before he did, he was going to pitch her out in the lake. With what he said , just barely out of his mouth, Norma latched onto a huge crappie and brought it to the boat. She just kept playing with the fish when it got upside the boat and did not make any more effort to bring it on in. Dad, looked at her and said: "Girl, you better get that trophy in here!" She said it was too cold to go swimming and DAD, got tickled and told her forget what he had said in a joklingly manner and put the fish in the boat.
Norma Jean was just that way. She did not boast about catching all the fish that day or anyday. She, was just a good natured all around city girl who had never been around anyone who fished and had the natural luck about her. No matter where she went, she never met a stranger, allways ready to talk if someone started a conversation with her. She was very outgoing and was becoming very popular in school, especially I guess for her looks seemed to have changed overnight that year.
She had not only became beautifull, she was preety inside, she let her warm soul shine thru her face.
She and I shared several summers together fishing the local lake as we grew into teenagers and when her Dad the banker bought her a 4 door Rambler for Christmas in her 16th year, she did not let the new car change her one bit. She would put the old Wizard outboard in the trunk along with the minnows and red worms and away we would go. Sometimes days and days were spent searching more and more spots to catch big ole slab crappie and if the bream were bedding, it was a fish every cast. Dad, bought her a small tackle box that Christmas and in it he put a few worm hook packages, some corks, stringer,and 2 number 4 willow leaf spinner baits in cold yellow. He had me bring her over at Christmas and he presented it to her. Never, will I forget the way her green eyes, sparkled at seeing her own tackle box and thanked him a thousand times. Dad, said a lady as good as she is fishing deserves her own tackle.
She was an excellant female buddy, for when the fish were not co operating, we would hit the shore somewhere, tie the boat up and go exploring in the mountains, along the stream beds that ran into the lake and just goofing off. A place I now call "Storybrook"! A personell place I go to write and be alone or just get away from hustle,bustle was discovered one summer day on one of our many exploring jaunts. She could hear the water fall in the distance and just kept on wading, farthur back into the mountains, following the sound. She was stunning with her hair tucked up under a ball cap I had given her one day to shield the hot sun off. With jeans rolled up to her knees, she just kept wading, going up the stream.
We discovered that warm day a water fall about 20 feet tall with a small cave under neath, coming out of the mountains. We climbed up on top of it and sit there for hours, watching the water come out of the mountains and glisten with sparkle as it tumbled over the rocks heading for the lake. That day she taught me how to kiss among other things and I taught her how to chew brown mule plug chewing tobacco, and spit without showing any teeth.
So, every time we went fishing from then on, we would before we went home, tie up the boat and wade back into the back of the cove and climb to out secret hidden spot far,far, away and away, way far back into the Boston mountains. One day, she floored me after we had been kissing for a extended time. She asked me wonder how many kids we would have. Now here I was just fixing to be 16 and she had allready turned 17 and just did not know how to answear that question. So, I just layed there on the grassy knoll beside the water fall and looked at her.
As we started to leave that day and sat up a butterfly lit on her left shoulder. A yellow winged with black spots butterfly. As caring a person as she was, she calmly stuck her right index finger up to the butterfly and as if given a command to get on, the butterfly hopped over on her finger. We both sat there looking that beautifull butterfly raise and lower it's wings, it was looking right at us, as if to somehow give some magical intellect on life! First, I heard a small sniffle and I looked and out of those sparkling green eyes of Norma Jean came moisture slowly creeping downward across her cheeks.
Norma Jean and I watched as the butterfly with yellow wings and black spots, turned on her finger and flew off back and forth, up and down sideways, like a butterfly will fly and headed out towards the lake. Norma, had been real close to her Grandmother and she was at her failing health bedside holding her hand when she went to heaven. Her grandmother had written her a poem for reading after her death along with a small love note from a dear older lady to her grandaughter. In this note and poem, her grandmother mentioned to Norma Jean, that she would allways watch over her from heaven and appear someday to give her solitice as a yellow winged with black spots butterfly and the tears poured like rain.
to be cont'd
Dad, looked at her over his glassess and told her if she caught one more fish before he did, he was going to pitch her out in the lake. With what he said , just barely out of his mouth, Norma latched onto a huge crappie and brought it to the boat. She just kept playing with the fish when it got upside the boat and did not make any more effort to bring it on in. Dad, looked at her and said: "Girl, you better get that trophy in here!" She said it was too cold to go swimming and DAD, got tickled and told her forget what he had said in a joklingly manner and put the fish in the boat.
Norma Jean was just that way. She did not boast about catching all the fish that day or anyday. She, was just a good natured all around city girl who had never been around anyone who fished and had the natural luck about her. No matter where she went, she never met a stranger, allways ready to talk if someone started a conversation with her. She was very outgoing and was becoming very popular in school, especially I guess for her looks seemed to have changed overnight that year.
She had not only became beautifull, she was preety inside, she let her warm soul shine thru her face.
She and I shared several summers together fishing the local lake as we grew into teenagers and when her Dad the banker bought her a 4 door Rambler for Christmas in her 16th year, she did not let the new car change her one bit. She would put the old Wizard outboard in the trunk along with the minnows and red worms and away we would go. Sometimes days and days were spent searching more and more spots to catch big ole slab crappie and if the bream were bedding, it was a fish every cast. Dad, bought her a small tackle box that Christmas and in it he put a few worm hook packages, some corks, stringer,and 2 number 4 willow leaf spinner baits in cold yellow. He had me bring her over at Christmas and he presented it to her. Never, will I forget the way her green eyes, sparkled at seeing her own tackle box and thanked him a thousand times. Dad, said a lady as good as she is fishing deserves her own tackle.
She was an excellant female buddy, for when the fish were not co operating, we would hit the shore somewhere, tie the boat up and go exploring in the mountains, along the stream beds that ran into the lake and just goofing off. A place I now call "Storybrook"! A personell place I go to write and be alone or just get away from hustle,bustle was discovered one summer day on one of our many exploring jaunts. She could hear the water fall in the distance and just kept on wading, farthur back into the mountains, following the sound. She was stunning with her hair tucked up under a ball cap I had given her one day to shield the hot sun off. With jeans rolled up to her knees, she just kept wading, going up the stream.
We discovered that warm day a water fall about 20 feet tall with a small cave under neath, coming out of the mountains. We climbed up on top of it and sit there for hours, watching the water come out of the mountains and glisten with sparkle as it tumbled over the rocks heading for the lake. That day she taught me how to kiss among other things and I taught her how to chew brown mule plug chewing tobacco, and spit without showing any teeth.
So, every time we went fishing from then on, we would before we went home, tie up the boat and wade back into the back of the cove and climb to out secret hidden spot far,far, away and away, way far back into the Boston mountains. One day, she floored me after we had been kissing for a extended time. She asked me wonder how many kids we would have. Now here I was just fixing to be 16 and she had allready turned 17 and just did not know how to answear that question. So, I just layed there on the grassy knoll beside the water fall and looked at her.
As we started to leave that day and sat up a butterfly lit on her left shoulder. A yellow winged with black spots butterfly. As caring a person as she was, she calmly stuck her right index finger up to the butterfly and as if given a command to get on, the butterfly hopped over on her finger. We both sat there looking that beautifull butterfly raise and lower it's wings, it was looking right at us, as if to somehow give some magical intellect on life! First, I heard a small sniffle and I looked and out of those sparkling green eyes of Norma Jean came moisture slowly creeping downward across her cheeks.
Norma Jean and I watched as the butterfly with yellow wings and black spots, turned on her finger and flew off back and forth, up and down sideways, like a butterfly will fly and headed out towards the lake. Norma, had been real close to her Grandmother and she was at her failing health bedside holding her hand when she went to heaven. Her grandmother had written her a poem for reading after her death along with a small love note from a dear older lady to her grandaughter. In this note and poem, her grandmother mentioned to Norma Jean, that she would allways watch over her from heaven and appear someday to give her solitice as a yellow winged with black spots butterfly and the tears poured like rain.
to be cont'd
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