It's good for carnivores to kill their own meat, at least once in a lifetime. How many succulent steaks have you had and barely even had to look a cow in the eyese? How many delightful chickens have you had the pleasure of stuffing with goat cheese and wrapping in bacon without ever twisting a neck? And of course, fish. I have eaten many a fillet, simply smoked, grilled on a cedar plank, dripping in a mustard sauce - what have you. But I have never caught my own fish. Until Vermont. Ragnar and I decided to go fishing and I found my calling. Of course, mostly what I loved about fishing was that it's the only sport where you get to sit on your ass for hours, talking and eating. I am a true athlete at that. Anyway, it turns out I forgot about the whole bait issue, and Ragnar had to hook all of the canadian crawlers for me. We met up with my Dad in Vermont and he was highly disappointed that I couldn't bait my own hook without squealing. Secondly, you actually catch fish that are too small to legally eat, and so you end up busting their lip real bad, to put it mildly, and have to throw them back in. I ended up catching two worthy fish - a large perch and a small trout. When we got back to the house, Ragnar boldly decapitated them and gutted them fiercely. I was an expert at scaling them and filleting. Restaurant, anyone? But I can't say it wasn't hard. At one point in the day I thought I had caught a fish, then I reeled my line in only to find the bony oval frame of a fish mouth. It isn't pretty people, but it's real. I sat there, and I did it.
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