Mother’s Day

Every day in May (Mother’s Day)

How Small a Trout Every Day in May Challenge.

Well I have bitten the bullet and decided to join in with a tremendous initiative from “How Small a Trout” of posting a blog every day this month. Of course I am cheating because I am only starting half way through but I figure “better late than never”. There are a list of suggested topics, today’s, pertinently if lacking somewhat in imagination is “Mother’s Day”. In my defense I have just returned from a day’s guiding and am still sitting in wet clothes, maybe that will score me a few extra points. 🙂

Being Mother’s Day today is probably a good one to be on the river, as a barren bachelor the only mother in my life is my own and she is a million miles away and unable to interfere with my fishing. Hereabouts Mother’s day is a big thing so the rivers will be underutilised and bookings easy to obtain which may well mean that whilst everyone else is sitting around the family groaning board and over indulging we might hitch our lines to the odd trout.  Mind you I am not actually fishing but working, guiding people from out of town. However I had better remember to put in that international phone call on my return from the waters or Mater will be upset.

Oddly we are going to be fishing a section of water today where my mother first saw me fish, although by then I had fished for decades with bait, spinners and flies and had represented both my province and adopted country in competition. I don’t come from an angling family, they lack the fishing gene and one always has to wonder if perhaps the milkman or postie were anglers, I don’t expect that mother would be telling.

I can still recall that fishing trip, having angled in various guises since the age of three my parents had never shown any interest in what I was up to, just so long as I returned home before dark and wasn’t too wet. Mother was well into her sixties before I forced them to come and watch, something along the lines of “this is what I do, about time you saw it before you are too old to come”. Actually mother claimed that it was the most wonderful day of her holiday and I do believe genuinely fascinated by the process.

Mind you mother had endured various fishing related mishaps even if she never actually came fishing. There was the dreadful stench of rotten fish bait in my bicycle saddle bag that needed delousing and never quite smelled the same again and the time when I forgot about the maggots in the margarine tub in the garage. By the time I remembered them they had all hatched out and throwing the tub outside in a fright resulted in a dense cloud of fat and ugly blue bottles which meant that nobody was able to use the back door for a week. My family never actually used the front door which was in some odd way reserved for visitors, so it was something of a novelty to us children to avoid the tradesman’s entrance for a few days.

Mother although disinterested was pretty supportive, she must have made a million beetroot and salad cream sandwiches for me and tolerated me stealing her flour to make bait. She took me to hospital when I darn near cut my finger off with my new fishing knife (for some inexplicable reason I was wearing roller skates at the time) and put up with my using her sewing thread to manufacture my first flies.

I suppose that is all one can expect, mothers don’t have to understand what we do, or even why we do it to be supportive of it. So happy Mother’s Day to all of you, but remember to go and watch what your kids are up to before you are too old to do so, you may not love them more but you could perhaps understand them a bit better.


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