CHAPTER 1
It had been twenty years since Bert had caught a fish, not that it stopped him from trying. Not since he had moved to Texas at 19 had he caught a fish. It was his curse. He was always out fishing every weekend while he lived in San Antonio. He had fished both the San Antonio river and the Medina river. He tried Medina lake and Canyon lake to the north. He had even driven to Del Rio to try Lake Amistad once. Not a single fish had ever taken an interest in his line. To make matters worse anybody that ever fished with him never caught anything either. His friends would almost never go with him after a couple of years because of it. The few times he could convince them to go fishing with him they would always bring plenty of beer, they would joke that the only thing you could catch with Bert along was a buzz. His best friend Mike said it was because the fish recognized his hook as a "yankee" hook and wanted nothing to do with a "damn yankee". After about 15 years he stopped trying, until now.
The pond was about a acre in size and was dug by his wife's grandfather more than thirty years earlier. It sat a mile and a half back from the house he had built for his family in the 70's. The land had been in the family for generations. Bert's mother in law told them the farm was originally 400 acres, But over the years it had been broken up and parcelled out to the kids. The current plot that Bert and his wife Jean inherited was just five acres. But it was five acres of some of the most fertile land in western PA.
The pond wasn't technically on their land, Jean's grandfather had dug it on his Brother's property but it remained in the possession of a distant cousin that lived in Pittsburgh and only used the land as a getaway and hunting property and so did not object to Bert and Jean using the pond for whatever they wished. When they first moved back from Texas bert had spent the better part of that first summer cleaning up around the pond and cutting the trail back to it again so that it could be used. The brush had grown up all around it and the cattails had all but taken over the edges so that you couldn't get a line in the water without losing your tackle when you reeled in your line. Now he had cleared out all of the cattails and dragged the fallen logs out of the water and it actually resembled a pond again, instead of just another swamp in the forest. It had been back breaking labor cleaning it all up but well worth it. He had used his Chevy S10 Blazer 4X4, lovingly labeled "The Beast" by his daughter Rebecca when he had acquired it eleven years ago, to pull the fallen logs out of the water. The real find had been the dock Jean's great uncle had welded together out of one inch steel pipe that extended ten feet out over the water. Bert had had to replace the wooden deck which had rotted away but he was able to buy the wood from a local amish sawmill for next to nothing. the new wood now gleamed with the three coats of deck sealer he used to waterproof it.
Today was the first day that Bert had been able to actually fish instead of clearing brush. Bert now sat on the end of the dock with two poles in the water keeping one eye on the White tops of his bobbers and the other on his 13 year old son Bert Jr who was on the other side of the pond fishing. They had been there since sun-up and while Bert hadn't managed to catch anything, Bert Jr. had five bass on a stringer in the water, ranging from 12 to 18 inches. Bert looked down into the water from the end of the dock and he could see the bass and Bluegill but so far none had shown any interest in his bait.
"Oh well" Bert said to himself, "Maybe another day." He reeled in his lines, took the crawlers of the hooks and threw them into the water. The fish immediately snapped up the crawlers once they hit the water. "Oh sure, NOW you want to eat 'em." Bert chuckled to the fish. Somehow the big bass that had been eyeballing him all day managed to look guilty. Bert hooked his hook on the bottom eye of his rod and took up the slack in the line to keep the poles from getting tangled. He put the poles in the back of The Beast and pulled out his tool belt and hand saw. He decided he would work on the picnic pavillion that had fallen into disrepair.
The alarm on his Timex went off at 4pm. Bert shouted across the pond to his son that it was time to head home. Bert Jr. reeled in his line and pulled up the stringer that now held 10 small mouth bass. They would make a great dinner once they cleaned and filleted them. The fish went on a five gallon bucket in the back of the beast and they bounced down the trail back to the house. Bert and Bert Jr. cleaned the bass on the wooden work bench he had placed on the back deck, and took them into the house. Jean had already started dinner so they sealed them up in ziplock bags and put them in the fridge for tomorrow's dinner.
The house was a three bedroom two bath two story with a full basement. From the outside it looked like just another vinyl sided home in the country. When you stepped inside that perception changed. Jean's grandfather was a craftsman and it showed. The kitchen cabinets were made from two inch tongue and groove that was much sturdier than the plywood paneling so many houses used these days. The island was eight feet long by six feet and connected to the cupboards that wrapped around three sides of the kitchen. The first floor was an open floor plan with stacked stone planters that lined the walls in front of two side by side picture windows that stretched from the kitchen into an L shape that ran along the stairs that led to a landing where the front door was. The stairs then turned 180 degrees and led to the basement. There was a door to a wine cellar at the foot of the stairs if you went straight or you could turn right into the full basement. Jean's grandfather used to make homemade wine and brandy so the wine cellar was essential in his home. Bert had cleaned it out and built new shelves out of rough cut boards he acquired from the same amish sawmill where he got the wood to refinish the dock at the pond.
Another stacked stone planter stretched across the front of the living room all the way to a three tier stone fountain that once held fish but hadn't had water in it for years. Jean's grandfather had drained the fountain when he could no longer take care of it and her mother had never bothered to put it back into service. Bert planned to remedy that once he had the rest of the property back in shape.
They had moved in when Jean's mother Betty had fallen and broke her leg down near the ankle. She was diabetic and the Doctor said the bones may never heal because of it. She was now in a wheelchair for the rest of her life and could not live alone. She had signed the house over to Jean to avoid inheritance tax since she would be inheriting it anyway, and had given Bert Carte Blanche to do whatever he wanted to the house short of tearing it down. Bert had always admired the house, whenever they had visited for the holidays and vacations, and had no intention of tearing it down anyway. He had spent the winter months updating the electrical and plumbing and building a bedroom in the basement for him and Jean. The Kids took the two upstairs rooms and Betty had the master bedroom on the main floor downstairs. The stone planters had essentially turned into a litter box for Betty's cat and Bert had cleaned them out and laid in new rubber liners and fresh soil in which he had planted herbs and vegetables instead of the decorative plants they were originally used for.
Bert and Jr. busied themselves with tending the half acre garden he had put in the back yard behind the detached garage and feeding the chickens and rabbits he had acquired that spring, while Jean put the finishing touches on dinner. The rabbits were doing well in the mobile hutch he built that wheeled into the garage at night to keep the predators from getting to them. He had put a chicken wire bottom on it so that the rabbits could feed on the grass in the yard, he put them in a different spot every day to give them fresh fodder to supplement the pellets he fed them at night when he put them inside. The chickens had a run he built off of the lean-to on the back of the garage and he had built them a rather nice chicken house in the 16x6 lean-to with nesting boxes where they could lay their eggs. The place was really starting to take on the feel of the homestead he and Jean had always dreamed of.
"Dad, Junior Dinner's ready" Rebecca called from the back door. Bert and his son stopped in the full length enclosed back porch to take their boots off before going inside to wash up for dinner. Jean had made her famous chicken pot pie along with a salad made from the greens they grew in the stone planters. It was the first meal they had that was entirely from the homestead, right down to the herbs used to season the potpie. The only exception was the flour she used to make the crust, but they had bought the flour in bulk and stored in quart canning jars in the wine cellar after dry canning it in the oven.
"That was delicious babe" Bert complimented his wife of 17 years. They had met in San Antonio 20 Years earlier and it was love at first sight. Bert knew the minute he saw her that she was his soulmate and Jean felt the same way. It was amazing that they were born 100 miles apart and had met 1800 mile away. Bert was from south western NY state and Jean had been born in western PA in the town near where they now lived. They considered it to be fate that they had met so far from home.
"Thank you sweetie" Jean replied. "Now if ya'll will clear out of the kitchen I have blackberries and raspberries to can, that me a Rebecca picked while you two were fishing"
"Okay hun I wanted to do some work in the shop anyway. So I will get out of your way" He kissed her and gave her a swat on the rear as he headed out the back door to the workshop he had set up in the garage to do some woodworking. He was working on a glider rocker for Betty. Bert had been amassing tools of all kinds since he was about 16. His tool collection had more than doubled when they had moved in with Jean's mother as he had inherited all of her grandfather's tools as well. One of the things he had gained was a Sears Craftsman wood lathe that had been buried in the garage for who knows how long. He had been surprised to discover it still worked once he cleaned it up and gotten all the rust off. it was just one of many treasures the garage had held. Bert had discovered many older hand tools some of which he had to look up on the internet to figure out their purpose.
There were clamps, hand saws, wrenches of all sizes, screwdrivers out the wazoo, hundreds of sockets, various power tools, several braces (hand powered drills), and many other tools. He had spent a lot of time organizing them and turning the garage into a viable woodworking shop. The glider rocker would be the first thing he had made in the shop since he had gotten it organized. He planned to surprise her with it on her birthday next week and wanted to get it finished. He had gotten the plans for it off of the internet and was actually making two of them identical as he knew the minute Jean saw it, she would want one as well. It was after 10PM when he shut down the power to the shop and went back into the house. he had finished assembling the first rocker and would spray it with a dark walnut wood stain the next day. Little did Bert know that circumstances would keep him from his well laid plans.
It had been twenty years since Bert had caught a fish, not that it stopped him from trying. Not since he had moved to Texas at 19 had he caught a fish. It was his curse. He was always out fishing every weekend while he lived in San Antonio. He had fished both the San Antonio river and the Medina river. He tried Medina lake and Canyon lake to the north. He had even driven to Del Rio to try Lake Amistad once. Not a single fish had ever taken an interest in his line. To make matters worse anybody that ever fished with him never caught anything either. His friends would almost never go with him after a couple of years because of it. The few times he could convince them to go fishing with him they would always bring plenty of beer, they would joke that the only thing you could catch with Bert along was a buzz. His best friend Mike said it was because the fish recognized his hook as a "yankee" hook and wanted nothing to do with a "damn yankee". After about 15 years he stopped trying, until now.
The pond was about a acre in size and was dug by his wife's grandfather more than thirty years earlier. It sat a mile and a half back from the house he had built for his family in the 70's. The land had been in the family for generations. Bert's mother in law told them the farm was originally 400 acres, But over the years it had been broken up and parcelled out to the kids. The current plot that Bert and his wife Jean inherited was just five acres. But it was five acres of some of the most fertile land in western PA.
The pond wasn't technically on their land, Jean's grandfather had dug it on his Brother's property but it remained in the possession of a distant cousin that lived in Pittsburgh and only used the land as a getaway and hunting property and so did not object to Bert and Jean using the pond for whatever they wished. When they first moved back from Texas bert had spent the better part of that first summer cleaning up around the pond and cutting the trail back to it again so that it could be used. The brush had grown up all around it and the cattails had all but taken over the edges so that you couldn't get a line in the water without losing your tackle when you reeled in your line. Now he had cleared out all of the cattails and dragged the fallen logs out of the water and it actually resembled a pond again, instead of just another swamp in the forest. It had been back breaking labor cleaning it all up but well worth it. He had used his Chevy S10 Blazer 4X4, lovingly labeled "The Beast" by his daughter Rebecca when he had acquired it eleven years ago, to pull the fallen logs out of the water. The real find had been the dock Jean's great uncle had welded together out of one inch steel pipe that extended ten feet out over the water. Bert had had to replace the wooden deck which had rotted away but he was able to buy the wood from a local amish sawmill for next to nothing. the new wood now gleamed with the three coats of deck sealer he used to waterproof it.
Today was the first day that Bert had been able to actually fish instead of clearing brush. Bert now sat on the end of the dock with two poles in the water keeping one eye on the White tops of his bobbers and the other on his 13 year old son Bert Jr who was on the other side of the pond fishing. They had been there since sun-up and while Bert hadn't managed to catch anything, Bert Jr. had five bass on a stringer in the water, ranging from 12 to 18 inches. Bert looked down into the water from the end of the dock and he could see the bass and Bluegill but so far none had shown any interest in his bait.
"Oh well" Bert said to himself, "Maybe another day." He reeled in his lines, took the crawlers of the hooks and threw them into the water. The fish immediately snapped up the crawlers once they hit the water. "Oh sure, NOW you want to eat 'em." Bert chuckled to the fish. Somehow the big bass that had been eyeballing him all day managed to look guilty. Bert hooked his hook on the bottom eye of his rod and took up the slack in the line to keep the poles from getting tangled. He put the poles in the back of The Beast and pulled out his tool belt and hand saw. He decided he would work on the picnic pavillion that had fallen into disrepair.
The alarm on his Timex went off at 4pm. Bert shouted across the pond to his son that it was time to head home. Bert Jr. reeled in his line and pulled up the stringer that now held 10 small mouth bass. They would make a great dinner once they cleaned and filleted them. The fish went on a five gallon bucket in the back of the beast and they bounced down the trail back to the house. Bert and Bert Jr. cleaned the bass on the wooden work bench he had placed on the back deck, and took them into the house. Jean had already started dinner so they sealed them up in ziplock bags and put them in the fridge for tomorrow's dinner.
The house was a three bedroom two bath two story with a full basement. From the outside it looked like just another vinyl sided home in the country. When you stepped inside that perception changed. Jean's grandfather was a craftsman and it showed. The kitchen cabinets were made from two inch tongue and groove that was much sturdier than the plywood paneling so many houses used these days. The island was eight feet long by six feet and connected to the cupboards that wrapped around three sides of the kitchen. The first floor was an open floor plan with stacked stone planters that lined the walls in front of two side by side picture windows that stretched from the kitchen into an L shape that ran along the stairs that led to a landing where the front door was. The stairs then turned 180 degrees and led to the basement. There was a door to a wine cellar at the foot of the stairs if you went straight or you could turn right into the full basement. Jean's grandfather used to make homemade wine and brandy so the wine cellar was essential in his home. Bert had cleaned it out and built new shelves out of rough cut boards he acquired from the same amish sawmill where he got the wood to refinish the dock at the pond.
Another stacked stone planter stretched across the front of the living room all the way to a three tier stone fountain that once held fish but hadn't had water in it for years. Jean's grandfather had drained the fountain when he could no longer take care of it and her mother had never bothered to put it back into service. Bert planned to remedy that once he had the rest of the property back in shape.
They had moved in when Jean's mother Betty had fallen and broke her leg down near the ankle. She was diabetic and the Doctor said the bones may never heal because of it. She was now in a wheelchair for the rest of her life and could not live alone. She had signed the house over to Jean to avoid inheritance tax since she would be inheriting it anyway, and had given Bert Carte Blanche to do whatever he wanted to the house short of tearing it down. Bert had always admired the house, whenever they had visited for the holidays and vacations, and had no intention of tearing it down anyway. He had spent the winter months updating the electrical and plumbing and building a bedroom in the basement for him and Jean. The Kids took the two upstairs rooms and Betty had the master bedroom on the main floor downstairs. The stone planters had essentially turned into a litter box for Betty's cat and Bert had cleaned them out and laid in new rubber liners and fresh soil in which he had planted herbs and vegetables instead of the decorative plants they were originally used for.
Bert and Jr. busied themselves with tending the half acre garden he had put in the back yard behind the detached garage and feeding the chickens and rabbits he had acquired that spring, while Jean put the finishing touches on dinner. The rabbits were doing well in the mobile hutch he built that wheeled into the garage at night to keep the predators from getting to them. He had put a chicken wire bottom on it so that the rabbits could feed on the grass in the yard, he put them in a different spot every day to give them fresh fodder to supplement the pellets he fed them at night when he put them inside. The chickens had a run he built off of the lean-to on the back of the garage and he had built them a rather nice chicken house in the 16x6 lean-to with nesting boxes where they could lay their eggs. The place was really starting to take on the feel of the homestead he and Jean had always dreamed of.
"Dad, Junior Dinner's ready" Rebecca called from the back door. Bert and his son stopped in the full length enclosed back porch to take their boots off before going inside to wash up for dinner. Jean had made her famous chicken pot pie along with a salad made from the greens they grew in the stone planters. It was the first meal they had that was entirely from the homestead, right down to the herbs used to season the potpie. The only exception was the flour she used to make the crust, but they had bought the flour in bulk and stored in quart canning jars in the wine cellar after dry canning it in the oven.
"That was delicious babe" Bert complimented his wife of 17 years. They had met in San Antonio 20 Years earlier and it was love at first sight. Bert knew the minute he saw her that she was his soulmate and Jean felt the same way. It was amazing that they were born 100 miles apart and had met 1800 mile away. Bert was from south western NY state and Jean had been born in western PA in the town near where they now lived. They considered it to be fate that they had met so far from home.
"Thank you sweetie" Jean replied. "Now if ya'll will clear out of the kitchen I have blackberries and raspberries to can, that me a Rebecca picked while you two were fishing"
"Okay hun I wanted to do some work in the shop anyway. So I will get out of your way" He kissed her and gave her a swat on the rear as he headed out the back door to the workshop he had set up in the garage to do some woodworking. He was working on a glider rocker for Betty. Bert had been amassing tools of all kinds since he was about 16. His tool collection had more than doubled when they had moved in with Jean's mother as he had inherited all of her grandfather's tools as well. One of the things he had gained was a Sears Craftsman wood lathe that had been buried in the garage for who knows how long. He had been surprised to discover it still worked once he cleaned it up and gotten all the rust off. it was just one of many treasures the garage had held. Bert had discovered many older hand tools some of which he had to look up on the internet to figure out their purpose.
There were clamps, hand saws, wrenches of all sizes, screwdrivers out the wazoo, hundreds of sockets, various power tools, several braces (hand powered drills), and many other tools. He had spent a lot of time organizing them and turning the garage into a viable woodworking shop. The glider rocker would be the first thing he had made in the shop since he had gotten it organized. He planned to surprise her with it on her birthday next week and wanted to get it finished. He had gotten the plans for it off of the internet and was actually making two of them identical as he knew the minute Jean saw it, she would want one as well. It was after 10PM when he shut down the power to the shop and went back into the house. he had finished assembling the first rocker and would spray it with a dark walnut wood stain the next day. Little did Bert know that circumstances would keep him from his well laid plans.