got a fish in my dish
With the sun shining down on this beautiful Friday Sydney morning, I am dreaming about a weekend fishing.
I've mentioned before about things in our lives that shape us and create the woven tapestries that are our lives. One of the weaves in the tapestry of my life is fishing with my father.
If there is anyone reading this who went fishing a child, memories are probably already flooding back.
It would be an early night to bed, completely fitted out in fishing appropriate clothes so when we were woken in the darkness of the early hours of the morning, it was a minimum of fuss.
Mum would have prepared some lunch for us. The basic of lunches. Usually corned beef, cheese and pickle sandwiches and bottles of orange cordial....Off we went with my grandfathers bamboo rods in tow.
I loved it. I loved the game of it. We nearly always went trout fishing so I'd like to think I've got the basics of fly fishing and I certainly know how to thread a lure and even create a daisy chain. Much to my father's dismay, I usually begged him to let most of the fish go. So it would be the task of unhooking it and throwing it back in.
Take me back to the tranquil waters and the serene settings and the twinkle of the water, the silence and the sun on my face;
Sitting on the dock of the bay, wearing your (1) 50s straw hat with enameled white studs, playing with your (2) 60s Hang Ten skateboard... it’s time for a little fishing trip. This (3) French “Carpe d’Or” sculpture in gilt leaf and resin by Francois-Xavier Lalanne is a nice catch. All that work with the (4) Heritage Gladstone rod will have you reeling for a snack. The (5) “Club Sandwiches” in Sharon Core’s C-print should do the trick, just need to lug that (6) 20s Italian picnic set by C. Confalonieri across the grass and plonk yourself down. You look like you need some relaxing whale-song. Relax to the sounds of the sea courtesy of the (9) 20th century Indian white marble conch shell bowl.