Fishermen are a different group. Nothing bothers them. They can stand by a stream or sit in a boat all day. The preference is to catch a fish or two but hey, just fishing makes  time whittle away. Here is one of my favorite fishing poems from an earlier Farmers’ Almanac:

A Fisherman’s Prayer

God grant me a little more time

To pick up my rod, and cast my line.

Work and worry  disappear

When I pick up my fishing gear.

With boat on trailer, I will go

Anywhere the fishing’s not too slow.

Work just doesn’t seem so fine

When I see what’s at the end of my fishing line.

When I am feeble, old and grey

Please don’t take my pole away.

When the Pearly Gates open wide

Please find this old fisherman, one good lake inside!

By Jeannette Hoppes