dropping a line

It's the official start of summer in Minnesota-never mind the regular calendar.  It's Fishing Opener!

Living in St. Paul, far from a fishing lake, with a hubby who doesn't own a fishing pole, just isn't the same as growing up in a household where the fishing opener was very nearly a religous experience.  Nights were spent before the big weekend putting new line on reels, cleaning out the tackle box, making sure all of the good lures were ready to go.  Maybe going crawler picking in the rain, looking for the longest, juiciest ones.

A side note (Tracy M, you may want to skip this part, knowing how you feel about worms and all....).  There is a fine art to picking crawlers.  Sure, they may LOOK like they are just laying there on the ground, waiting to be grabbed.  But if you aren't quick, they can scoot back down their hole quicker than lightning.  Wearing rubber gloves only compounds the problem, it is really best done with bare hands.   And since they only come out when it rains, it is usually quite an adventure, and you come home all soggy and, well, dirty.  But boy is it worth it, to pick a big bucket full to take fishing.  Not that I get to do that much here in St. Paul.  Although a few years ago you could find me in my yard in the rain, picking crawlers, and then growing them for my dad when he used to be on the professional walleye tournament trail.  Yup, you can buy both worm bedding AND worm food, right here in St. Paul.  And for some reason I have a lot of night crawlers in my yard...

If the season was on track, we would go minnow seining too.  I fondly remember a big culvert that we would wade through with our big net, my dad on one side and me on the other, with my brother waiting to help us scoop them up and get them in the bucket.

I LOVED going fishing with my dad, and when I was little it seemed like we went a lot.  I really miss it.

I am sure he is gearing up this week, and tomorrow he will be out in his boat.  Probably not at midnight, like in the old days, but for sure he will be wetting his line.   Good luck dad, and to all of the other fishing folks this weekend!  And Heather, kiss a blue racer for me, won't you?