Post by Fisherman Augie on Mar 3, 2015 12:11:26 GMT -8
Spring 1: 12:06 pm
Still remnant of winter, the early spring breeze was chill and crisp. But drifting in his rowboat in the center of the lake, with the easy afternoon sun above, the weather was nothing short of pleasant.
Today Augie was as quiet as a bone. He wasn't whistling a jaunty tune, he kept his redneck mumbling to a minimum, and his shoulders were perfectly rigid. Spring meant serious fishing, and for this particular catch he had to be the utmost of focused!
Suddenly his beard bristled. His fishing line gave a tug and the bobber dunked under the surface. Augie leapt to his feet with a burst of excitement and grabbed hold of the fishing rod. "EEEE OL' BESSIE, THIS COOT'S HOOKED YA AT LAST! YA' FAT HOOCHIE, YOU'LL BE MOUNTED ON MY HOUSE!" He hollered, shattering all the silence he had accumulated during the last hour. He heaved the fishing rod with his mighty arms and reeled in the line, and at last, a flopping struggling fish was pulled from the depths of the lake and yanked harshly into the light of the day and into Augie's boat.
It was a pretty trout. Nothing to complain about, moderate size, looked healthy, and not too old or too young.
Augie picked up the madly flopping and still-dripping fish in both hands. "Well I be a sea cucumber's uncle," Augie grumbled. "You ain't Bessie at all. Git out of here," and easy come easy go, Augie unhooked his fishhook from the fish's lip then tossed it back into the water. He then proceeded to resume his seat in the boat and let out a long string of furious grumbling.
Still remnant of winter, the early spring breeze was chill and crisp. But drifting in his rowboat in the center of the lake, with the easy afternoon sun above, the weather was nothing short of pleasant.
Today Augie was as quiet as a bone. He wasn't whistling a jaunty tune, he kept his redneck mumbling to a minimum, and his shoulders were perfectly rigid. Spring meant serious fishing, and for this particular catch he had to be the utmost of focused!
Suddenly his beard bristled. His fishing line gave a tug and the bobber dunked under the surface. Augie leapt to his feet with a burst of excitement and grabbed hold of the fishing rod. "EEEE OL' BESSIE, THIS COOT'S HOOKED YA AT LAST! YA' FAT HOOCHIE, YOU'LL BE MOUNTED ON MY HOUSE!" He hollered, shattering all the silence he had accumulated during the last hour. He heaved the fishing rod with his mighty arms and reeled in the line, and at last, a flopping struggling fish was pulled from the depths of the lake and yanked harshly into the light of the day and into Augie's boat.
It was a pretty trout. Nothing to complain about, moderate size, looked healthy, and not too old or too young.
Augie picked up the madly flopping and still-dripping fish in both hands. "Well I be a sea cucumber's uncle," Augie grumbled. "You ain't Bessie at all. Git out of here," and easy come easy go, Augie unhooked his fishhook from the fish's lip then tossed it back into the water. He then proceeded to resume his seat in the boat and let out a long string of furious grumbling.
