Great Day for Fishin'

"Just enjoy it while you can," said Bob when I mentioned that I would miss the South once we'd moved. "Soon it will be behind you."

Yes, Michigan is different, I know. Folks are more proper and reserved. Last time we went north after seven years in Texas and Florida, I realized that I take too long saying things, and they look at their watches.

Not here.

When we do go up 'ere again, I hope I don't forget conversations like the one a few minutes ago with a perfect stranger at the gas pump.

A nicely dressed woman got out of her car to fuel up next to me. Of course I said, "Beatuiful day. How ya doin'?"

She replied, "Jest fine, than-kew. It's such a nice day, Ah'm fixin' to go fishin'."

I knew enough not to ask what she'll be fishing for. Of course it's catfish. It's always catfish.

So I said, "Where ya fishin'?"

She replied, "Up 'ere on Pelahatchie Bay. The resevor is so high that the little rivers and creeks is flooded. There's lots o' floodin' up 'ere.

I had noticed crossing the spillway that at the "cork" where the dammed up water spills over into the Pearl River, there is lots of flooding, and little boats are scattered everywhere through what was woods last week.

"Usta when Ah'd fish up there when it was floodin', I'd catch some bigguns. One day I sat there, and in an hour Ah caught me 25 this size. And she stretched her hands out to show me.

"Well, yew have a great day fishing, I smiled. "And fill up yer freezer," I said as I hung up my pump.