While I'm knitting, I'm thinking about fishing. Fishing as a hobby. Fishing as a relaxing venture. I don't get it.
Up to this point while fishing in this bay, he has hooked two horseshoe crabs and two turtles. All have made it back into the water with varying degrees of "hook damage" that I have to pretend they will recover from. My buddhist "hurt no living thing" self recoils when he proudly catches a fish.
I eat fish. I know where it comes from. I'm not a member of PETA. I get the whole food cycle- life cycle thing.
But when I see a turtle or a crab suffering and in the same moment am obliged to say "ooh- you caught something," I struggle.
It's much easier when he plays Mario Video games while I knit. Then I only have to say "Look, Another Gold Star! Woo Hoo!"
Sensitive much?
3 comments:
I'd have trouble with that too. Ken is a fisherman, or he was when he used to have leisure time. I don't even like my 3 yo old carrying around bugs like Lenny.
I'm a bit of a fatalist. None of us get out of this life alive and uninjured - turtles, people, fish or crabs. Do harm to none, if practiced fully leaves you sitting dead still, quietly starving to death - which is kind of a shame for the folks who love you. I prefer to cause as little pain as possible and accept my role as an instrument of fate when it's unavoidable. Like mamograms and teenagers, you don't have to enjoy those incidents, but you do have to live with them.
What is his fishing style? Does he troll or plunk or cast?
I always hated eating meat growing up. When I was finally old enough to make my own food choices, I refused to eat anything that had a face. Eventually I began eating meat again, but I still can't stand seeing it in its original form. I prefer to think of meat as something that comes in plastic wrapped grocery trays, all clean and skinless with no bones. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt.
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