I don't know if it's this freaky weather or my lone ovary talking to me. Hot one minute, cold the next. The rest of the baby factory was disassembled pre-1988 but doc said the lonely one would do it's work. Could also be something else, anyway, it's not any fun.
My mind is as jumpy as my temperature. I thought hot flashes, then I thought Hellgrammites That took me to childhood hunting for fish bait. Strange how things process in this old hard drive I call my brain. I said it twice, hot flashes and hellgrammites and it sounded good...thus the birth of this post.
When it was too dry to dig for earth worms, we hunted hellgrammites. Now, these babies, exactly what they are, can bite. They are larvae. They kinda roll with the current of a stream. Dad would place a screen at a good point in the creek. It was our job to stir the hellgrammites.
When they caught on the screen, we removed them to some container. This was the fun part for Dad (I blame him for my orneriness). We girls got to pick them. With lots of ouching and squealing we tried not to get bitten. Dad stood by with his blue Irish eyes twinkling ever ready with instructions on how to catch them without the bite.
We left the hunt soaked from jumping and splashing in the shallow stream while catching these little monsters. I suspect Dad was a little tired from laughing. Our fish bait was now ready to magically turn into dinner.
We always had bass for supper when we had hellgrammites. I guess that was one way Dad taught us to work for our dinner.
For those in doubt, this is a happy memory.