I have been listening, and it seems you all want to hear more Shirley stories! To thank you all for reading and sharing and laughing with (and at) me, today I am rewarding you with a bonus Shirley story.
Today I will take you into the country, to my uncles private lake, and to our old pop-up camper. I was probably no more than 14 when this happened.
My mother is afraid of most reptiles, but there is one particular reptile that sends her into conniptions. She can't even watch them on TV. Snakes. Any kind of slimy living object comes in a close second. Whenever we went camping, we'd wait until it was dark, and take out our flashlights to go look for bait. You know what I'm talking about...frog gigging. You shine that flashlight into their eyes and they are paralyzed. Well between my mom and my aunt we lost a few frogs. Every time they'd paralyze one, they'd go to pick it up and then scream and drop it. It was decided they would be better at fishing.
Mom was insulted that she was not considered a prime frog gigger, and decided to SHOW those men what she was made of. Late one evening she sneaked away from the camper with her fishing pole, and headed to the little cove that my dad and uncle had cleared. Now for mom, this was a miracle in itself, because snakes are hard to see in the dark and she was so scared of getting bit. Dad and my uncle went out to check the trout lines on the lake that night and heard her screaming bloody murder. I didn't actually SEE this, but my dad described it to me in detail between guffaws. There, on the bank stood my mother, screaming her bloody head off, standing ON a fish attached to her line. I say standing, but what dad actually said was JUMPING UP AND DOWN! It was a big fish, at least 10 pounds, and my mother was desperate for the men to see her catch before it escaped back into the lake. My dad and uncle pulled the boat over to the cove, and got out on shore. They asked mom how long she'd been doing that, and she said she'd been stuck there for over an hour. She didn't want to touch it, and carrying it on the line would have broken the pole, so she decided just to hold it down with her feet and wait. She desperately wanted to cook the fish for breakfast, but unfortunately that was out of the question. She was so afraid that the fish was going to escape that she didn't notice that she had brained it to death with her feet almost immediately. The fish was covered in dirt, detrius, and what I assume used to be it's insides. Dad decided that since it couldn't be cooked, that mom could use it for bait.
Dad hooked up mom's pole with the squished fish bait, and instructed her to blow a whistle if she caught something. 10 minutes later we heard a shrill whistle. Then another. Then a barrage of shrieks from the whistle. We went running! We rounded the tree break and what did we see? My mother, in tears, in a stand-off with a snapping turtle. Dad took one look and sent me for a camera and a hammer. First for pictures, then for dispatching the obviously disgruntled turtle. That sucker had to be at least 2 feet in diameter. It was safe to say he'd been eating well in his lake for a long time, and was having none of this shrieking, crying, freak show. He'd shoot out his head and snap, and mom would scoot back. The only problem is that somehow, he'd managed to get my mom between him and the lake. So every snap took her one very precarious step closer to a dunking. I got back with the camera just as mom lost her balance and dunked herself in nasty lake water. (Yes, this is what I think of when I am spitting mad at her. Somehow it always make me feel better.) The picture of her sputtering and soaked is in my photo album and Mom tries to steal it every time she gets a chance. That's SO not happening!
So yeah, if you want a good laugh, take my mom fishing. Also bring a rubber snake, that would definitely spice things up!
To fish stories and turtle dips!
Love and Laughter,
-Kat Lady
