Skeeter’s Rock

BY LARRY WHITELEY

I was on my way to the lake to go fishing the other day. She was driving an old Chevrolet pickup. At first glance, I thought there was no one driving until I saw a few gray curls sprouting above the seat and wrinkled hands holding on to the steering wheel.

People would probably have assumed she was on the way to a quilting group or maybe the grocery store. They would be wrong, though. She turned on an old dirt road that headed down to the water. I decided to follow her.

She was out of her truck gathering her fishing gear. I walked over to introduce myself. She said everyone calls her Skeeter. She is a tiny woman. A toothless grin came to her face when she told me she was 84 years old and 4-foot-81/2 inches tall. I didn’t ask her how much she weighed, but I would guess under a hundred pounds.

“I’m heading for my favorite rock to try to catch a mess of catfish,” she said. I asked her if I could carry some of her fishing equipment so she didn’t have to make two trips, and besides, I wanted to visit with her some more. “It’s my rock,” she announced. “If anybody else is on it, that’s not good. You can come along and help me shoo them off my rock.” Then she giggled.

There was no one there that day. She got out a jar filled with her special concoction of catfish bait she makes herself and baited her hook. I asked her if there was anything I could do. She giggled again and told me to just stay out of her way. I did.

She told me she used to fish here with her husband George. He died several years ago. Skeeter kept fishing. When she isn’t on her favorite rock fishing this time of year, she’s tending her garden. From what I could gather, the garden is not small. It sounded like it took up most of her backyard. She hoes it, weeds it and takes care of all the vegetables by herself.

When the vegetables are ready to harvest, she does all that too. She gives most of them away to neighbors and friends. Then she cans the rest and stores them in her cellar for winter. “I like to give them to folks that really need them,” she said.

She has a television but doesn’t watch it. She misses Red Skelton and the Carol Burnett shows. She tells me the shows aren’t very good anymore, and she won’t watch the news because it depresses her and makes her mad. She has no computer or smartphone.

She says she is in bed by 9:00 most nights, up at 5:30 each morning, and out doing her two-mile walk around the neighborhood at 6:30. Everyone in the neighborhood loves her and checks on her. She especially likes it when kids come to visit her. She always has a treat for them.

This day, she sits on her rock, soaks up the beauty of the day, and appreciates life. “There is so much to be thankful for, so much that God has blessed us with, and we take it all for granted,” she said.

She caught no fish that day, but she sure blessed me. I helped her back to her truck, and we made plans for me to bring my wife to her home and visit her. I look forward to that and to coming back with her again someday to Skeeter’s Rock.

Something to think about

“Aging is not about how many years have passed, but how much life you’ve embraced.”  -Sophia Loren

Missouri Ozarks native Larry Whiteley has communicated the great outdoors across America for over 40 years through newspapers, magazines, books, blogs, television and a nationally syndicated radio show. To read more of his award-winning stories, go to www.storiesbylarry.com. Email him at larrywhiteley2@gmail.com.