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Sun, May 20, 2012

Gone Fishing
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I got a fishing licence this summer which isn't totally weird as my
dad owned a small fishing lake near Pottstown when I was growing up.
Hours were spent catching all sorts of fish. The problem is some of
my friends think I'm strange. That, in and of itself, isn't unusual
but strange in fishing, which as a Pennsylvania girl is as normal as
humidity in July.
Fishing is kind of a philosophy. You have to be willing to kill small
things like worms, or the worst is crickets. Their eyes get really
big and they stare at the hook with a panic look in their eyes.
Salmon eggs are easier with which to deal.
The kiind of folks you meet while doing this are always friendly and
willing to share with you what they've caught and the secret to their
success. The difficulty though is getting to the places to fish. I've
fallen in the Wissahickon, slid down a trail behind the Flourtown
Commons and wrapped my line around more than one tree. I think they
should lower the age of eligibility to fish in Hillcrest Pond before
I kill myself. Maybe I should try something safer ... like sky diving.
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