Woman Midwest-style

Fishing is best with minimal conversation while occasionally changing bait to best match the fish's patterns… listen... let the breeze and warmth of kinship guide us.      Surgery after surgery for over a year and a half, I've not been the outdoors gal that I'm accustomed to being.  That hasn't stopped me from dreaming.  Because I love fishing.  I literally felt the tug on the line as I dreamed I was fishing.  Fishing dreams are said to have a religious context, but fishing dreams for me are damn near as much fun as the real thing !          At the time I wrote this, there was four days of fluffy snow blanketing the ground.  And more was forecast before the day became tomorrow.  February in Missouri is a plethora of sleet and snow, then a warmish spell teases us of spring.  Then comes fishing.  That time of year I lust for Crappie fishing after all morning turkey hunting so I dreamed of yanking Crappie out of the icy clear waters, a frosty chill to

Everything   is mythical when you're five years old; fathers, mothers, Santa, God.  But the world keeps spinning no matter what the five year old in you believes.   It's not that certain things seem larger than life, it's just life seems larger. And in a thousand tiny surrenders or sometimes in one fell swoop, what you'd seen as truly mythical, you learn is merely myth. The good news is that ultimately you find other myths to believe in.  Other people as well -- you see the myth for what it is, a close-up of a man in his bones.   Smaller and greater and more like yourself than you care to admit.  T he ego falls apart.   Love is not a myth... swirling, enticing as the mythical lunker.  Sometimes myths trump strolls down memory lane.  And that mythical lunker lies just beneath the moss in the next cove. We all yearn for it to be there. Trish L Frommer, 2014