Burnt Toast: And Other Philosophies of Life by Teri Hatcher

Author:Teri Hatcher [Hatcher, Teri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Autobiography, Biography, Happiness, Non-Fiction, Personal Growth, Philosophy, Self-Help
ISBN: 9781401384531
Google: Z2prAwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Hachette UK
Published: 2006-05-01T23:00:00+00:00

It’s Pretty, Let’s Eat It

I grew up fishing. The first time I caught, killed, and cleaned a fish all by myself was when I was eleven. I had wandered off from our campsite in Sonoma into the hills on a barely existing trail and spotted a small eddy (where the water circles back out of the rapids in the opposite direction, creating a calm spot) that looked like a good place for fish to rest after the turmoil of the rough stream. I settled on a flat rock and put a wriggling worm on the hook. (I always feel conflicted about that heartless worm-hooking. I like being the girl who’s not afraid to dig in the dirt, handle a worm, and put it on a hook. But I don’t like killing anything either, so to give it that stab through its middle then basically let it drown while waiting to be eaten—it leaves me feeling, shall we say, guilty.) Anyway, after a long interlude of bird-watching and wondering if a bear might be around, I felt that first tug. I was so exhilarated. I always wanted to make my dad proud, and I knew this would do it. Jerking back at just the right time, I hooked the mouth and reeled him in. He was a big trout, and I didn’t have a net, so I carefully dragged him up the shore making sure not to break the line. Then I found a small rock, bonked him on the head to put him out of his misery, and triumphantly carried him back to my dad. Later we ate him for dinner. (Camping fish tip: Place sliced lemon, salt, pepper, and olive oil on fish and wrap in foil. Cook over fire. Yum. Delicious.) He was fourteen inches long—and I swear he hasn’t grown an inch in thirty years of boasting!

I took Emerson fishing for the first time when she was four and a half. My dad sweetly bought her a fishing pole. It was a kids’ pole—purple and plastic. Not the strongest pole in the world, but a short, easy-to-use pole with a real hook and line. It wasn’t meant for anything tricky like fly-fishing or trolling. You could cast out about fifteen feet, then sit and wait to see if a fish bit. We took Emerson’s new pole with us, went into the mountains, and found a nice campsite by a lake. I put salmon eggs on the hook for her (I thought I’d spare her the whole torture-the-worm thing seeing as we were about to possibly kill a fish), and she cast it in all by herself. We let it sink, and then I propped the pole between some rocks so it was sitting up by itself. I didn’t really expect her to catch anything. We were just going to relax and enjoy ourselves, and if we saw a tug at the line, she could try to reel it in.

We spread out a blanket and I started to read her Anne of Green Gables.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.