Cleaning fish with Grandpa.
My sister watched with new emotions. Having spent the day at the pond with our Grandfather, she was totally engaged in this unexpected aspect of life. The timid, sensitive nature of the young girl was bolstered by his confidant strokes, as he scraped scale from flesh, and flesh from bone.
New images in her eyes, new smells in her nose. New respect in her heart for the man she loved and trusted. She admired the confidence of his knife as it transformed a flopping fish into a more familiar sight. Food.
She had spent much time on the farm, but mostly with our Grandmother in the kitchen. She had watched Grandma batter and fry the fish many times, but this was something new, exciting, dreadfully exciting!
