While Rhiannon and I were soundly snoozing the darkness away, Paul and his boating cohorts were busy catching their limits and filling the cooler. Around 5 am, I heard the sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway and Paul pulled in. I think I managed to open a still sleep encrusted eyelid and asked if he brought any fish home. He grumbled something incoherent (either that or I was already asleep again) and fell into bed.
Later that morning, after barn chores and feeding the human offspring, I looked around for the cooler of fish. Finally found it in the trunk of the car, opened it and "Ta-Da"! A wonderful, beautiful, cooler full of crappie!
|Cooler full o' Crappie!|
Paul was up by now (no thanks to Rhiannon and I clomping around the house, trying to be quiet) and he got ready to start filleting the fish. I would have helped, but my sister was in so I had to spend some quality time with her before she left.
After we got home from visiting, I found a bucket filled with ice water and fillets in the sink. I packaged them up and stuck them in the freezer. There was just over six pounds of fillets! So once again, Paul was left to catch the fish, clean up the fish, and provide for his family.
fish my husband!
She always says, "You kill it, I'll clean it & cook it". But it's funny how there always seems to be something else that interferes with the cleaning part and she's nowhere to be found. I could have used some help filleting all those fish, but Nooooooo, she has to go somewhere and leaves me with the mess. She'd better cook them up good.