Monday August 22nd, 2022

The exercise:

Write about: the fisherman.

Max, who has wanted to catch a fish for most of his walking life, went on a two night trip with his Poppa, Uncle, and oldest Cousin this weekend to stay in a yurt and fish the days away.

He returned home this afternoon and informed us that he not only caught a fish, he caught eight. He even brought one of the rainbow trout home, which we cooked for dinner tonight.

It was delicious.

3 comments:

Greg said...

The yurt looks a bit more hut-like and less tent-like than I was expecting, but it(they) still look like nice places to stay for a few days. Maybe not in a Canadian winter, for all that the fireplace looks pretty effective, but certain nice for the other seasons!

The fisherman
The hobbit formerly known as Merry but who now went by Sombre sat on the riverbank with a fishing rod set carefully beside him. There was a little wicker basket containing his second breakfast off to the side, and next to that another, slightly larger wicker basket that contained his lures and bait. Once upon a time, he mused, the bait basket had been the smaller of the two but now that the Dark Lord was gone and He Who Must Not Be Named had PTSD and Frodo was... well, Frodo had always been a little bit weird but now he either had a God complex or he'd kept the One Ring... and Frodo was being himself the world had changed. And with it the maggots had gotten bigger and bitier, the fish were cleverer, it seemed, and some of the flies that he tied for fly-fishing looked like they'd come from the nightmares of ancient fishermen who didn't get out enough.
He pulled some bread from the basket, looked at it thoughtfully and decided that it needed a little something else. So he found the butter, the bacon, some pickles, a hard-boiled egg, a little jar of paté -- he hadn't asked what animal the paté was made from as you didn't these days -- and some herb that might have been coriander and put together what he considered a thinking snack.
Overhead there was a whistling sound and he didn't look up. It would be an unfortunate, whether hobbit or orc or even human, that had managed to get on Gand -- He Who Must Not Be Named--'s last nerve. Which was short, and far too easy to get on, by all accounts. HWMNBN liked to eject from the village literally.

Greg said...

"Ho, Sombre!" came a voice behind him and he tense, peering over his shoulder fearfully as though worried that he was about to be ejected himself. The long grass between him and the village was still and silent, and as he scanned about he relaxed a little when he spotted a horse standing off on the road's edge and a hat moving towards him from the Rivendell direction. The elves were stand-offish and hoity-toity as statues but at least they acknowledged that the hobbits had been useful in the War of the Ring.
"Sombre, what are you doing?" said the voice as it got closer, and moments later Sombre could see a face at last and his calm turned to confusion.
"Aragon?" he said, trying to put his sandwich down, stand up, and brush crumbs away all at the same time.
"Nah, Dad's busy," said the Gondorian with a flash of teeth and a quick grin.
"Oh, Marathon," said Sombre, sitting himself down, and then having to stand up and retrieve his sandwich from underneath him before sitting back down again. "You gave me a start. I'm fishing."
"What for? I thought Gand--" Sombre's hand slapped over Marathon's mouth.
"Don't say it. He can hear it from miles away. Something about vibrations in Ea's crystal veil, though Frodo nicked that from the Elves, so I've no idea how it works. Call him... his Nibs."
Sombre's float bobbed in the water and both Marathon and he looked at it.
"Gondor calls for aid," said Marathon as Sombre started reeling the line in. "Again. Dad seems to think he needs aid for everything these days, but I said I go and get you and Pippin. He likes having you around, I think." They both stared as Merry's catch proved to be a arm which looked freshly removed from its owner. "That's a fish?"
"I heard a noise, earlier," said Sombre. "Probably Gand-- his Nibs -- ejected someone and their arm came off in flight."
Marathon gave Sombre an appraising look. "I can have Dad say you can't leave, if you like," he said. "We've got places to fish in Gondor, some of the fish won't even try and eat you."
Over in the Shire there was a loud bang and a cloud of black smoke lifted into the air.
"Sounds interesting," said Sombre. "Sounds very interesting indeed."

Marc said...

Greg - apparently they were quite comfortable inside. I suspect the fireplace would keep it well heated in winter, but having to go out of doors at some point would very much negate my enjoyment of that experience in the snowy months of the year...

This is delightful. It has an air of authenticity, despite your obvious delight in tweaking... uh, various details... from the source material.