The Fish That Got Away

When I was growing up, my parents and grandparents spun many a yarn about their lives. One of my all-time favorites was from a time when my maternal grandparents went deep sea fishing. Living near the coast, they would go fishing as often as they could.

My maternal grandparents

One day back in the 1950's, they decided to make their fishing trip a little more interesting by turning it into a friendly competition. The competition rules were: whoever "boated" the biggest fish that day, won. To "boat" the fish meant neither could help the other reel in, or bring on board, their catch. They had to do it all by themselves.

My grandfather stood about 6'1" tall, while my grandmother was a petite 5'4" tall. My grandfather's size gave him a bit of confidence with his ability to cast further, and reel fish in faster, than my grandmother.

The prize for this competition? Bragging rights. 

Little did they know how far, or for how many years, the bragging rights from this friendly competition would continue.

The fishing competition commenced with each of them using a cane fishing pole to catch bait fish. A cane pole is a piece of bamboo which was fashioned into a fishing pole. Once they caught a small fish on the cane pole, they would transfer that fish to their "good" fishing poles, in hopes of catching bigger fish.

All was going well when my grandmother's cane pole began to dance around. Thrilled she had caught a bait fish, my grandmother quickly grabbed the cane pole and began to bring it in.

The harder she pulled on that cane pole, the harder the fish fought back. Within minutes, she realized she had something larger than just a bait fish and started hollering for my grandfather.

"Help! Help me!" she cried.

When my grandfather turned toward my grandmother, he was greeted with a view of just her elbows and fanny, and both wiggling around frantically. The rest of her body was bent over the side of boat fighting against whatever was on the other end of her fishing pole.

A second later, she stood upright, causing her cane pole to bend nearly in half. The weight and fight of the fish on the other end of the pole pulled my grandmother so she was bent over the side of the boat. 

Back and forth she went as she fought to gain the upper-hand. Just as she would stand upright, the fish would fight back and cause her to be bent in half again.

Again she cried out "Help! Help me!".

Being that this was a friendly fishing competition between the two, and my grandmother was holding her own in this battle of fish vs. human, my grandfather took a moment and asked "Is this fish going to count?". 

"Yes!", she exclaimed.

He chuckled as he replied "Well, then no ma'am I won't help. You have to boat that fish yourself, if you want it to count.".

Her reply was lost as she was, yet again, bent in half when the big fish fought against being a trophy. My grandmother may have been petite, but she came from a lineage of strong women and was every bit as feisty as the ancestors before her. She dug in her heels and pulled, and tugged, and pulled some more. 

Back and forth she went with this fish for a good bit of time. Finally gaining the advantage, she pulled the fish in close to the boat and yelled for my grandfather to grab the fishing net to lift her prize into the boat.

Eagerly, my grandfather moved close to my grandmother as she brought the fish to the surface, ready to see what size fish had caused such an epic battle. Just as he leaned down, the fish surfaced, only it wasn't just any old fish. 

Photo Courtesy of Wikipedia Public Commons

It was a shark! 

Ok, so it wasn't the 20 foot great white shark pictured above, but when you're the one hanging over the side of a boat with their hands in the path of a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, it probably looked like Jaws. It was, however, a good four to five foot very displeased shark, to be more exact.

My grandfather shrieked and jumped back. After making sure all of his digits were still intact, he declared my grandmother the winner of their contest and made the wise decision she did not need to boat her catch. Grabbing a tool from his tackle box, he carefully cut the fishing line and set the shark free.

You may wonder what happened to the cane pole that stood strong throughout this competition. It was permanently bent in an arc from that legendary battle of wills and would be brought out of the storage closet whenever anyone asked to hear the story of how my grandmother caught a shark.

My grandparents had planned on keeping that fishing pole indefinitely, unfortunately, their home was burglarized a number of years later and the burglars made off with all of their fishing equipment, including the bent cane pole.

So, if you ever come across someone with a bent cane pole from ca. 1950's, it could very well be from an epic battle where my grandmother caught a fish "this big"......... but it got away.

Written by Christie Bielss

When The Sucker Sucks

A few weeks ago while my kids were playing a video game together, I was doing a last minute vacuum of my kitchen floor in preparation to mop.  As I moved toward my kids and out of the kitchen, I suddenly smelled something burning.  My alertness peaked and I immediately started sniffing around like a bloodhound trying to catch on to a scent.

Shark Rotator Professional Lift-Away

Within seconds I realized it was something electrical which was about to catch fire.  I hollered for the kids to unplug their new game from the television, thinking it must be defective.  They moved quickly to comply in hopes of saving their new toy.

Even with the video turned off and unplugged, the burning smell not only lingered, but grew stronger.  It was at that moment when I looked down and realized it wasn't their game, it was my vacuum cleaner.

I moved quickly to unplug this firetrap of a device as the thought of researching and having to pick out the right vacuum cleaner made me break out in a cold sweat.  After all, we stay-at-home moms are judged on the depth of carpet pile pulled up and the straightness of our vacuum cleaner lines in our carpet.

Off to the land of Google search I went.  Several hours later with descriptions of vacuum cleaner attachments and allergen output bouncing around in my head like a ping-pong ball, I decided on a vacuum.

Wouldn't you know that it was sold out of every single store in a 20 mile radius.  I had to order it online and wait 5 days for it to be shipped to my house.  I went through Walmart.com and was thrilled with how quickly they shipped the order out.  I even ended up getting it a day earlier than the scheduled delivery date.

I pulled what felt like 20 pieces of vacuum cleaner parts out of the box and slowly assembled the Eureka SuctionSeal Bagless Upright.  With the word "SuctionSeal" in the name, I was loaded with great expectations of this vacuum being able to suck up a basketball from 100 yards away.

Eager to see how this new vacuum would perform, I immediately plugged it in and began to vacuum.  After finishing the family room, I immediately moved to the living room and vacuumed it.  When I was done and before I switched it "off", I looked down at the see through bagless collection canister.  There was a decent amount of dirt and pet hair rolling around inside of the collection bucket.

While leaning over watching the yucky gick dance around, I pushed the handle upright.  This particular motion caused the hose to let go from the collection bucket and spray the contents all over me and the room.  "Seriously?! What the heck?!" I yelled.  I looked down at myself and realized I looked like a monster that crawled out of a Sci-Fi movie.

I got out the directions and reassembled the hose piece, turned the vacuum back on and vacuumed myself off, along with the carpet.  I pushed the arm of the vacuum back up and like a skit from "I Love Lucy", the contents of the collection bucket blew all over me again!  "Sassafrassing-mumble-grumble, good thing I'm not Catholic or I'd be saying Hail Mary's for the next 10 years mumbles.........."

It was at that precise moment my husband walked in the door from work.  He stopped in his tracks, looking at me with a stunned expression on his face, as a large ball of dog hair and dirt sat on my shoulder like a parrot. 

"Don't.Even.Ask..........", I said.  He put his head down, quickly walked past me and headed to our bedroom.  He didn't quite make it past me before the chuckles and laughter could no longer be contained.

I dusted myself off and back to Google I went........ with a new technical design requirement for any vacuum I chose.  After many more hours of searching Google and looking at photos, I selected a couple of vacuums to go try out in-person this time.

Off to our local Sears store I went (they let you actually use them there), with my husband in-tow to help give technical guidance.  At the store, I was able to see and touch the vacuums I had chosen and immediately nixed every single one of them from the list.

I was frustrated and ready to throw in the towel when a sales woman came over and asked what I was looking for.  I listed out my requirements.  She knew her vacuum cleaners and expertly guided me to the 2 vacuums which met my needs.

It was a tough call because the vacuum I really liked was double what we had budgeted to spend.  But, as my husband kindly reminded me, a good vacuum is worth the extra expense since it is used a LOT in our home.  And by hitting the sale and using coupons we received, it wasn't that much more than the other vacuums I'd been looking at.

So, I did it.  I bought the Shark Rotator Professional Lift-Away vacuum and brought it home.  Assembly took less than 5 minutes. 

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, I was vacuuming.  This vacuum has so much suction, it's almost self-propelled!  Oh, how my heart went pitter-pat.

The attachments are a housewife's dream as they extend and change out at the touch of a button.  The amount of pet hair and dirt this vacuum got out of my carpet and off my hard floors was absolutely beyond belief.

My mother told me that at some point in my married life, something like this would happen.  I didn't want to believe her.  I figured that what she told me had to have been out of the dark ages, and I'm a mom of the 21st Century.  

But today it happened.  Today I can say she was right.  Today, I fell in L.O.V.E. ...........with a corded appliance.  I am now filling out my warranty card.  It feels much like a marriage license and as soon as I complete it, I know me and my Shark will be connected ...... until death do us part.

Written by Christie Bielss