69.6 F
Walker
Saturday, November 23, 2024

Life 101: ‘Uh Oh’

By Rick Watson

I could write a book on the number of times in my life, I have said, “Uh Oh.”

My mom once told me the first words I learned to say weren’t momma or daddy, but uh,oh.  That was a harbinger for things to come.  Those two words caused more swatting on my backside than you can imagine.

Once when I headed out fishing with my rod and tackle box, our neighbor Mr. Plunkett was sitting on his porch.

“Come here boy”, he commanded.  I knew better than to blow him off because he’d tell my mom.  

I walked over to yard slowly.  He leaned forward and spat a wad of Bruton Sunff on the ground.  It looked like a splatter of dried blood.

“You ort not go fishin in short pants,” he advised.  “ You’ll step on a cottonmouth.”

I would not be caught dead in long pants in summer, so I did the old, “I’ll be careful routine.”

As I stepped out of his yard and headed to the creek, I heard him say, “ Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When I got to the creek, I pulled off my shoes so I could wade in the shallow water and discover the best fishing spots.

I had decided to move up stream, taking a well-worn path to get to a better spot and came up on a dead tree across the path.   I stepped over the log, my brain focused on how good all those fish would taste when mom fried them.

I was about to set my foot down on the other side of the log; my foot was mid-air when I saw a cottonmouth as big around as the calf of my leg.  His mouth was wide open, ready to strike.  My mouth was somehow saying those words, “Uh Oh.”

I launched myself backwards in an amazing move that defied gravity.

Thankfully, it plopped into the water, and swam to the other side.

When my heart returned to my chest and my mouth closed, I found my fishing gear had somehow ended up in the creek.  After fetching my gear, I thought it best to call it a day.

Mr. Plunkett was still sitting on the porch when I walked back home, and he looked a good bit smarter than he had a few hours earlier.  I am sure he noticed that I had not caught any fish.   He didn’t say anything.  

I took more notice to my fishing attire after that.

Rick Watson
Rick Watson
Rick Watson was a beloved member of the Walker County community, especially in east Walker County. His “Life 101” column was almost always written from the peacefulness of his 12-acre farm in the Empire community. His work focused on observing the joys of rural life.

Related Articles

Stay Connected

1,156FansLike
23FollowersFollow
25SubscribersSubscribe

Latest Articles

Stay Connected

1,156FansLike
23FollowersFollow
25SubscribersSubscribe

Latest Articles

- Advertisement -