Tater pickin’ and lobstah fishin’
The other day on the way to Presque Isle, I noticed a combine in the field cutting grain. That vision brought home the fact that autumn is just around the corner and potato harvest is in the offing.
I remember back to “picking” times in the field. Being a big boy, in a rugged sort of way, my hands weren’t as fast as most. The field boss would mark out my section and move on. I looked on harvest about the way I would look at sticking my hand in a hornets’ nest.
Anyhow, when the digger passed my section, I did what everybody did. I picked as hard as I could. Then it seemed to me like the digger had cloned itself and an hour later I would be 16 or 18 rows behind. My solution to that was to sit on the handle of my basket and laugh like a fool.
All was not lost though as the digger would stop and some of the other kids would help me get caught up.
What did I like about harvest, you may ask. I liked the friends and people we worked with. Well, that and the paycheck so I could get my school clothes for the coming year. Those days are pretty much gone now, but I can still sit back and Remember When …
Lobstah Fishin’ With Mickey
Well, we set out to go haul and reset traps. We would pull one trap and move 10 or so yahds to reset it. We had to do that so that the lazy lobstahs wouldn’t need to crawl so fah to get in the trap.
Now we had this table that served as the cover of the holdin’ tank and it raised up as a work table so we could band the claws and measure for propah size and then drop them in the tank.
The last trap was aboard and Mickey was doin’ a kinda fisherman’s jig back there on the stern of the boat. He had just dropped the last trap ovahboard and forgot that the biggest lobstah of that day was on the table. Thing of it was, he hadn’t banded the claws yet.
Well, in his zeal of the last trap, he backed up kinda close to that table and wouldn’t ya know it, that lobstah reached out and pinched Mickey’s right hip pocket. I thought he was just steppin’ up his dance until I saw the empty table and that huge lobstah hanging from Mickey’s hindah parts. Mickey started yelling for help and at the time all I could do was laugh.
Watch for Part 4 next time.
Guy Woodworth, a Presque Isle native now living in Limestone, is a 1973 graduate of Presque Isle High School and a four-year Navy veteran. He and his wife Theresa have two grown sons and five grandchildren. He may be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.