Wed, 15 July 2009
Fishing seems to be a sport that you either love, or have nothing to do with. My father is a fisherman, and has been for most of his life. My husband also enjoys fishing during salmon season. It would be nice, though, if he caught a fish at some point.... Well, my kids love messing about in rivers and streams, as I'm sure most kids do. They have buckets and nets and kids' fishing rods. They also have the real thing. Infact, my youngest son, Robert, bought himself a tackle box with his pocket money. It is one of his treasures. Inside are various compartments for the little rubber worms, the shiny metal spinners, and the colorful floats. He proudly brought the box with him on our latest trip to Lake Roosevelt. I found it stuffed into the back of the car with the rest of the luggage. Well, it turned out that that little box was a very important part of the vacation. My brother took the three boys down to the beach each evening to fish. About the time that the sun was setting, the flies would start to come out, and the fish would start jumping. I would stay at the house with my mother and my daughter and play cards. The second to last evening, about the time that it was dark, I heard excited voices coming up the road from the beach. It was all the boys; they had caught a fish, and my goodness, they were celebrating.
Fishing vocabulary: spinners, floats, worms, to cast, hooks, the reel, bait, tackle.
When we went fishing, the fish didn't go for the worms, but for the spinners.
After I bought my new fishing pole, I cast out, and immediately I caught a salmon.
I would have caught the fish, but the reel got stuck. It didn't turn because there was a knot on the line.
Our fishing trip was hopeless. We had brought all the fishing tackle but we had forgotten the bait!
The fish was presented to me as if it were a box of treasure that had just been discovered. It was a rainbow trout, only about one pound in weight, but a great prize for the boys. They begged me to let them help clean the fish. "No problem," I said, "it's a good education." So, after washing the fish, we cut it open. Then the fascination for the insides of the fish could be seen on the childrens' faces. I asked them if they wanted to see what the fish had been eating. "Yes!" they cheered in unison. So I removed the fish's stomach and very delicately cut it open. Wow! It was completely full of flies. Infact, we could see that the fish enjoyed catching and eating one particular type of fly. They were very recognizable in the top of the stomach, and further down had become mashed and mixed up. It was very interesting. Then we continued to examine the intestines. The liver was obvious, but boring compared to the colon. I hope these details are not too disgusting for you, my dear podlisteners. My kids looked on in amazement while Robert ran the knife along the fish's colon and squeezed out the....um....the digested fish. "Eww!" they all said, like a little choir. That is the same expression as "Yuck" in the U.K. Well, we finished our gory examination, washed and wrapped the fish, and put it in the fridge. By the next morning, by the time the kids were awake, their uncle Richard had it on a plate, fried up with butter and lemon.
New vocabulary: in unison, to mash, gory, recognizable.
When I asked the boys who had broken the vase, they pointed at eachother and said, "He did it!" in unison.
To make the potato dish, the vegetable needs to be boiled and then mashed.
The film was too gory. There was too much violence, and blood and guts.
The criminal was barely recognizable. He had disguised himself very effectively.