As a child one of my most favorite places in the world was my grandparents cottage. It was a rustic little place on the shore of a reservoir, set back in a large pine woods in Wisconsin. At night the wildlife fluttered around the cabin lights and by day the wildlife ran or flew from tree to tree in an unending ballet of wild motion. I cant begin to count the number of hours I spent sitting with my grandmother soaking a worm off the dock for bullheads and perch. It was a love of fishing that I just was never able to fully satisfy. My cousins and we were there frequently in the summer, and while I didn't always get along well with my one brothers and sister, Julie, the closest in age of my four first cousins, and I got along well and when I wasn't fishing I was hanging out with her. We didn't see each other nearly as much in the colder months, since my dad's job seemed to move us farther and farther from them every few years. But summer was our chance to catch up and talk about all kinds of stupid stuff. I just enjoyed spending time with her… even if she was a "girl". Over the years that closeness seemed to fade as we moved farther away and our families got together less frequently. From once every couple weeks it turned to once every couple months. Fall turned to winter and we would get to sled together or play some pool in their basement. Seemed like we did the traveling, but I didn't mind. I still enjoyed catching up with her when we got together. The years didn't seem to …
change the cottage much though. It was still the same little cottage, the only amenities being running cold water and electricity. We had a flush toilet, but if you wanted hot water you had to make it on the stove. That meant that cleaning up at night wasn't a bath or shower, but a sponge bath out of the sink. I got very adept at washing my whole body in little more than a liter of water. The lake began to change though. Much of the timber that was flooded when they created the reservoir was being cut off by the feet thick ice in the winter and new fishing holes opened up, if you knew where the original channel was to get to them. Time finally came when I finished high school and moved out on my own, starting work as an electricians apprentice. It was ok work and it gave me plenty of weekends off to drive the four hours up to the cottage for a weekend of relaxation with my grandparents. My grandfather taught me the routes to get to the good fishing and I loved going out in the old aluminum mirrocraft, the thirty five horse mercury engine making the light weight boat fly across the top of the waves with only me in it. I can't even begin to count the number of hours I spent slow trolling the mudflats for walleye and northern pike. As the first winter came in Indiana, I continued to work as an electrician, doing industrial projects with other electricians of the company. I had a knack for it and quickly learned the methods and codes required. I was often assigned to some of the
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