Some of my warmest memories are fishing with my dad, fishing with my kids, fishing with my kids, AND my dad.

OK, just fishing, I guess.

Now, I'm not talking about what I would call hardcore using all the latest technology fishing. I'm talking just standing on the shore or the dock, putting a line in with a bobber and...fishing.

And catching that first fish? Well, to tell the truth, I don't remember catching my first fish, but I DO remember my kids catching their first fish, at least when they were with me. They were little (really little!) sunfish in the lake just off Sheridan Lake Road in the Black Hills. The joy on their faces when they 'reeled 'em in' is something I'll never forget.

And now another generation has discovered the love of fishing.

That's my Granddaughter MacKenna up there in the photo (Well, Kenna to the rest of the world, MacLove to me and Bug to her Grandma). And she's proudly holding Moby Dick.

Yes, that isn't exactly a Nebraska State Record catch, but I'm thinkin' as the years go by, that fish is going to get bigger and bigger and bigger. That's kind of what we fisher folks do, right? That Bullhead I caught all those decades ago has somehow turned into a record-breaking Northern Pike as I tell the story these days...and it was a heck of a battle haulin' him in!

These kinds of photos are the ones that stick to the heart and make a home there. It might be a Grandkid standing by their first car, a Grandkid hitting their first Home Run, a Grandkid shooting hoops in the driveway, a Grandkid...OK, OK, a Grandchild doing just about anything.

But know this, my friends, know this: Moby Dick has been caught. In a little lake. Gee, who knew that's where he was hiding?

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