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.          I love fishing.  I literally feet 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 the wind as winter yields to spring on its last breath.  But in the Midwest, we must first endure black ice road conditions as night’s freezing rain solidifies on bridges a

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Calhoun, MO My mom knew I loved the woods and she knew Jesus watches over her little huntress... as I venture out every fall. I miss her.  Everyone had eaten Christmas dinner, I was ten or so, six inches of snow on the ground.  Iowa white Christmases were as common as cardinals calling outside my bedroom window, their red a vibrant contrast to a snow-topped evergreen tree. My brother and sisters chased each other in the snow. We were happy to be outside with all the grownups inside. My memories of those frigid Iowa days make me miss the woods so much, my foot hoisted on top of the sofa. I longed to to go hunting and fishing this year more than ever. I missed hunting for three years while recuperating from reconstructive surgeries and my foot in a cast in 2015. Hunting and the woods is my church.  Anyone who loves and respects God's green earth knows what hunting does for a person's soul. It's not the thrill or bang of a powerful rifle... Winter h