First Squash - June 24, 2020

We picked our first "mess" of squash this afternoon!

That's only half of what we picked.  We gave the rest to Nanny.  When she saw them, she exclaimed, "Oh, I'm fixing to heat up a skillet and make some cornbread right now!"

I came home and did the same thing.  Sauteed the squash in olive oil, with an onion and a small pimento pepper, heated a can of white beans, and fried up two thick slices of bologna.  Man, it was a supper fit for a king.

While the supper cooked, we washed the cayenne peppers and made a jar of pepper sauce.  When that jar sealed with a popping noise, it was like music to my ears.

My euphoria over the season's first harvest was dampened a few minutes ago when a friend called to tell me of a death in the community.  The deceased - "Mr. Buddy" - was 95 years old.  He was one of my father's best friends.  They used to sit under the maple tree, chew tobacco, and swap stories for hours.  Otherwise, when they were together, they were out on the Mississippi River in a john boat, running "trot lines"in pursuit of catfish.  A trot line is a long cord from which are suspended multiple hooks.  One "runs" the line by grabbing it with a pole to lift it out of the water, then one pulls oneself along the line, hoping a fish is on one of the hooks.

My most vivid memory of their fishing expeditions happened when I was a teenager.  They came home with a good-sized catfish, but they were both sopping wet.  When we asked why they were both wet, they told this story:

Buddy was in the back end of the boat, and Daddy was up front, "running" the line.  There was a fish on one of the hooks, and as Daddy raised it out of the water, the fish came off the hook, the hook (still attached to the line) buried itself in the palm of Daddy's hand, and yanked him out of the boat.

We said, "Well, that explains why YOU are wet.  Why is Buddy wet?"

This part of the story was scary.

The trot line was taut, and with the hook in his hand, Daddy could not swim to the surface.  He had to yank out the hook, and it took him a minute to surface.  Meanwhile, Buddy panics and jumps in the river to save him.  In waders.  They both finally fought their way to the surface.  The boat was going down the river with the current.  Daddy told Buddy to try to swim to the bank, and he would try to catch the boat.

They both made it.  And came home with a big fish.  At the time, Daddy was probably pushing 60, as was Mr. Buddy.

Funny, I don't recall them going out on the river too much after that.  If it was their last fishing story, it was a good one.