Some Bull

Good morning, some title, some bull, a bit of tongue in cheek as I remember the e-mail I received yesterday with this picture of the bull at the end of a funny story. A DEA security police officer greeted the owner of the farm saying he wanted to check out his property. The farmer gave him permission to search the farm, but also gave him fair warning not to go into a certain field. The agent pulled out his badge and said he had authority to go where ever he wanted. A bit later the agent is running and screaming for help as this huge bull is chasing him and the farmer is hollering "show him your badge" . . . " show him your badge". That is one mean looking bull and although I've never been close to one, I can honestly tell you that I am in no hurry to introduce myself to one, even though I think this one is handsome.

Pat and Jock went fishing the other day which means heading out to the river in the dark and cold with the expectation of catching 'the big one', from Jock's favorite spot. From what I gather it has a natural formation where the water flows and spirals so the fish find it a perfect place to hide. A storm was predicted but had not moved in , the dark and cold sent shivers up their backs but the love of fishing kept them warm inside and their jackets kept them warm outside.

Jock usually starts a campfire and cooks breakfast out on the river as they wait for the fish to ring the colorful bells on their poles. Jock is a master chef when it comes to cooking anything he catches. They tramped to the river only to find their favorite spot taken. Horrors, how can one fish when your most favorite spot has been commandeered by two 'friends' who know that spot is spoken for? Jock doesn't have a claim to it so he and Pat hiked up further on the river and put their poles in. It wasn't very long when the bells rang and Pat had a fish on her pole. It put up a good fight but she landed it much to the dismay of the two fishermen who had been sitting out in the dark and cold for hours without a bite.

It is the time of year when you can only catch a certain size of winter fish in the river and this big monster was thirty pounds, caught by Pat, who had to toss it back into the water. They did catch a smaller one they could keep. Pat was laughing when she told me the story of catching the huge fish and throwing it back into the river as the two fishermen packed up to leave. The first of the new year the rules change about how many you can catch and keep. It is unbelievable how many rules out there for the fishermen to follow, all for their sake as well as the fish. I've never fished, no desire to skin and bone a bloody fish, yet I love to eat all kinds of fish, and am no shirker in attacking one on my plate. I miss the taste of Boston mackerel, or the Big Blue my brother-in-law used to catch in Newport and admire the fishermen who have the patience and the skill to catch them.

I don't know if you are fishermen, but if so, get out there and catch a few. Have a good old fashioned fish fry like we use to have years ago. It was such fun and more than delicious to have so many choices. I wouldn't mind having one of those Maryland crab cakes, or a dish of scampi or a cod fish cake (I'm lying as I hated those cod fish cakes. . yetch. . almost as bad as having to eat tripe. I just got carried away in my enthusiasm to tell you about fish fries.) Baked, boiled or fried, you have to admit it is one of he delicacies in life. Make your day a good one. Do something special just for you. I am talking son John into fish and chips today. You could join us if you were only closer.