Under "Sport" I said: "I am a good one. Best at barracking and fantasty..."
Which is not a lie - I will happily give encouragement if required, but in terms of participating then I like things other than sport to physically challenge me.
And truth be told, there are avenues in life that are termed "Sport" that should not have that moniker. I will not name them here, because it will bring all sorts of jellyfish to my pond who will no doubt want to argue the finer points of their "sport" and while I think debating has merits, it falls into the "meh, can't be bothered unless I really care" category.
One of those murky areas is fishing. If there was a category on the internet dating site that I landed V on, my response would have been "great excuse to read a book" - and I probably would not have even had a nibble from him, let alone a tug on the line.
Because pre-Jeanie V had a hardened habit of keeping the rods in the back in case he ever had a spare half-hour to see what was biting (besides mosquitoes).
It doesn't bother me - as I said to him, if he is not home by 9pm he had better have some bloddy fish - not that that rule has ever been tested.
And it didn't bother me that he gave 'Salina a fishing rod of her own for Christmas. I think it wonderful that he wants to share an activity he enjoys with "the middle one" and that I might get a few hours of reading time at some point.
Of course, there have been a few weekends since Christmas, but for one reason and another the line was only attached this weekend, and Saturday afternoon one very eager 'Salina was casting across the back yard for practice. She caught several trees and a ginger cat!
Sunday we finally decided that the day had arrived. I packed snacks and books, 'Salina danced a jig and applied sunscreen while V tied hooks and prepared the bait box. Unfortunately he heeded my "oh, we can get some there" advice - but then, he should not have asked my opinion as to whether we should bait up in our local village or the smaller but fishier villages to the North.
We learned - Northernmost village has NOTHING open (except the international sugar transport shed - I need to take a picture some time for you) on a Sunday.
We also learned that Nextnorthern Village shuts most shops at 2pm - and we had aimed for 2.30pm. However, we did find one general store that sold everything from bait to health food to lollies. It was one of the only times we have ever left such an establishment without a plea for the latter - 'Salina was THAT excited.
The little cove that we chose for our initial foray into fishing was ideal for the purpose - so ideal, indeed, that every kid on their first fishing outing for miles around went there on Sunday! However, following the unwritten "personal fishing space" rule we still managed to get our little bit of sand and set up.
Lines baited, 'Salina and V both cast and waited for tugs. I found a comfy spot of sand and got my magazine out. My reading did not even get to start however, as V asked me to hold his rod for a moment or two.
Now, I know there are some traits that learned and some traits that are genetic, and I am not sure which one patience falls in to the category of - but either way, 'Salina is not the girl to understand "just sit there for 10 minutes" command - nor is her mother.
Luckily the fish were hungry, and we got many tugs - we were far busier feeding the fish our prawns than hooking them, however. V had an almost full-time job of baiting (he said he was a master) and lo and behold - I spent a whole afternoon fishing.
I stand before you today and even confess that I learned to cast!
Cost for the day: 1 bag frozen prawns, 1 sand worm, 3 hooks, 1 sinker.
Tally for the day: baby flathead (on the left - courtesy of 'Salina's line - he swam free after this shot) and baby bream (on the right - courtesy of
'Salina wants to go fishing all the time now. Me - well, I actually enjoyed it more than I thought I would, so I may tag along - so long as the baiter and line de-fisher
is available, because I do so shriek like a girl!