My hook is baited with a dream - I fish for Peace ... Robert Service
Her father said nothing, just stood up with a quiet snort and took the newspaper from the kitchen counter. Halfway to his armchair in the living room he stopped himself, however, and stood there slightly unresolved, leaning on his stick.
"Does he fish?" he finally grunted without looking at her.
"I don't think so," Sonja answered.
Her father nodded gruffly, stood silent for a long while.
"I see. He'll have to learn then," he grumbled at long last, before putting his pipe in his mouth and disappearing into the living room.
Sonja had never heard him give anyone a higher compliment.
From A Man Called Ove by Fredrick Backman
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Pat Donoghue, Canada ©1997-2016 Best viewed at 1024 x 768
|My fishing days began in England, tempting, with maggots and bread paste, small roach, perch, bream and carp with my Father (Michael, see his WWII diary), my Grandfather (Albert) and my Uncle (Len). They were the finest kind.
Now I fish with flies for Nova Scotia's wild trout and salmon.
The four flies on this page are taken from The Tent Dwellers (Sports fishing in Nova Scotia in 1908) by Albert Bigelow Paine.
Piscator non solum piscatur......
There is more to fishing than just catching fish.
This site received the Best of the Net award for the Personal site and Canadian Local Information categories from Flyfishing about.com and is included in Craig Buddo's book Fishing online: 1,000 Best web sites