I look back at some of the old photos and think back at the faith that my sister and I had in Dad’s abilities to feed us when we were on vacation. When we were on the road, we always wanted to go to Howard Johnson’s to eat. We’d fall asleep and next thing we know, he’d be waking us up because we were at our favorite restaurant yet again. We were amazed at how he could always find one to eat at. Of course, as my husband and I travel we do the same thing with Cracker Barrel – there’s always one somewhere up the road to eat at.
The same faith applied to eating breakfast when we were camping in Canada. You went out to fish, you caught the fish, the boat pulled up somewhere, and Dad gutted, cleaned & cooked fish for breakfast. We had freshly caught fish for three meals a day when we were camping. This picture is from the last camping trip that I took with my parents before I got married, so I was already in my early 20’s. Yet I didn’t question that we would catch our breakfast to eat. We just always did.
Of course, when your father is a hard core hunter and former (are they ever former?) Eagle Scout, this is probably a pretty easy trick. I’m sure my mother had a stash of cereal, tuna, peanut butter & crackers “just in case”, although he would have hated that sufficiently to make sure we had fresh fish instead.
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