It's been years since I've gone fishing. I actually love to fish. My grandmother taught me how to bait a hook with a night crawler and cast it into the stillest, darkest, deepest part of the water, under the trees. I only remember fishing once, after moving away from Grandma, at a summer barbecue of my father's work associates. Grandma taught me well, because I ended up catching the largest fish of the day with my little bamboo pole. I guess you could call me a city girl, with a country heart. Although, growing up in various subdivisions across the Midwest, wasn't exactly city, but certainly not the country, either. The American subdivision is a culture all its own. But, I'll save that for another post.
I wish I had a picture of Grandma fishing. Luckily, I do have one, in my mind's eye, contentedly sitting, pole in hand, on her lawn chair on the bank of Wildcat Creek. While browsing pics, I did, however, find this lovely old boating photo of my great-grandmother Ida Belle, with her two sons, Chester (my paternal grandfather), his brother, Uncle Bright, along with the Williams and Rains families. The picture was taken by my great-grandfather, Glenn. (You remember him, from last week's post, posed with his portable bellows camera.) This tiny postage stamp sized photo enlarged quite nicely. I love how everyone is dressed to the nines in dresses, hats, suites and ties. Every outing was a special occasion. I like that.
Ida Belle Hanna, seated center with my grandfather Chester
circa 1921, Howard County, Indiana
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