Fisk, Fisk, Fisk

I have been fishing now for two days straight here in Sweden in the heat, in the cold, and in the rain (sometimes a mixture of two elements). I have caught 5 fish (fisk). Now that may not sound too bad, but these are small bait fish for the upcoming crayfish hunting tomorrow night and we needed about 10 more than we got. Now I have been fishing before, but to be quite honest despite growing up in Arkansas in the country for 10 years with a father who constantly had me around animals, I had succesfully managed not to have to hold a fish for the past 20 years of my life. I was quite fine with this fact and not eager to change it for the one animal I cannot stand the idea of holding is a fish! Today my world was shattered. After successfully convincing Anna to take off the last four fish I had caught, we had two quite defining events. First, Anna caught a fish that had swallowed the hook pretty far down and she was going to have to pull it out which she did not want to have to do but did because I was far too chicken! Second, I caught a fish 5 minutes later that had managed to not only swallow the worm far enough down that I could not get the hook out, but the hook was also wrapped around the gill. Having just pulled out her own hook which brought up half the fish's stomach in the process, Anna was not eager to pull mine out for me. So here I was, stuck in a serious dilemna. SO I grabbed the fish and began to pull. Soon we decided this would not work without pulling the whole fish's head off since the hook was securely fastened in his gill. So I did the only thing left to do. I stuck my finger down the fish's mouth to maneuver the hook around until it would come out. Ten to fifteen minutes and a lot of blood later, the hook was out with the worm still on it. Though it was in the end a very empowering experience, you know overcoming my fears and all, I must say it is quite possibly the most disgusting thing I have ever had to do and I was very relieved we caught no more fish this evening.