Sometimes there are things in life that you take for granted. Like going to Grandma’s and just knowing that she was going to cook a great big breakfast bounty with eggs, sausage, homemade biscuits, and that wonderful white gravy that only Grandma could make. It was a given and you expected it. While she was cooking she would tell us stories about life as a little girl in Arkansas during the depression. Grandma was a tough old bird, honed from a rough life in the field, doing hard work without a complaint. She always seemed to have a smile on her face. Grandma passed on in May of 2007. I imagine God’s eating pretty good these days. I loved visiting Grandma and took for granted that she would always be there.

    I found Old Number 61 about 12 years ago in northern Minnesota. She was right there on the map, plain as day, but getting close to her always seemed to be a time consuming endeavor. Each year when I would visit, I would spend many an hour trying to get close to her. You knew she was right there, but you couldn’t see her unless you had some assistance. It took a while before I acquired the assistance I needed to make sure our visits were as long as possible. She’s rock solid with quite a bit of character, and willing to share her bounty if you have the patience to stick with it. I don’t have any idea the age of Old Number 61, but she’s been around awhile, much longer than Grandma’s 92 years.  She does show her age, as she is a bit lopsided, with some broken pieces scattered at her feet, but she still stands tall and proud.  I have gotten to know her pretty well in the last 6 years (assistance came in 2003) and she has always been very good to me. (A lot like Grandma) Sometimes our encounters are short and sweet, other times she will test your patience and make you extend your visit to get what you want. Grandma was like that at times too. I cherish my visits with both of them.

    If you haven’t guessed, Old Number 61 is a waypoint on my GPS. She marks a submerged island on a beautiful lake in Northeastern Minnesota. Rising out of 40 feet of water, she’s about 26 feet tall. On the south side at her feet are numerous boulders, some two feet tall. The walleyes love to hang here when the water is calm and the sun is high in the sky. To the north, she slopes rather gradually into 27 feet of water. The smallmouth bass like this area and we have caught many beauties. Her top is only 5 feet wide, and if the wind is up or light levels low, the fish will be on or near the top.

    I was recently in Northern Minnesota fishing Old Number 61. We had just got on the spot and it was amazing, I could smell breakfast cooking.  Thanks Grandma!

THANK YOU FOR THE STORY IT BROUGHT JOY TO MY OLD HEART AND A TEAR TO MY EYE

Yes Zamer, thank you for that lovely story. My grandma lived to the ripe old age of 96. She was a tough old bird but always funny and up to something. She passed on while I was away with the Air Force. Now my mom is the grandma, has been for a number a years and her grand kids love her to death. My youngest always says, "grandma is cool." I am very happy my children call her and seek her out and visit her often.

Thanks for the memories.

Tight lines to all.

gonefishin

A lot of times we don't miss them till they are gone and when we are young we have better things to do than visiting family. My grandpa and grandmas were very good to me and I'm sad that I took them for granted and didn't visit them often enough. Like yours, my grandma was a great cook and knew how to make everything from lye soap to catsup and wonderful sugar cookies. My grandmother Faye indoctrinated me into fishing.

I never knew either of my grand fathers. one died in 76, and the other in 77. I was born in 78. My mom's mom more less raised me. my fathers mom lived a very long and happening life. she saw both worlds. the old country (Ireland) and the new. My mom's mom died in 1990 at 85. She saw the real old west on the reservations. They were both good cooks, and made sure I new my history. My children aren't so lucky. My wife's mom died before we met, and my mother had a massive stroke in 94. Your lucky if she knows who she is between seezures, and migrain headechs. My dad is their only sorce of the things that grand parents should pass down. He is a true heroe of Vietnam. My aunts fill more of the grand ma roll for them. Luckily for my daughters I caught the great cook geans. So maybe My great grandchildren will be lucky enough to share in those memories with you all.
life member since 07-09