Go Fish.

This Sunday night was host to one of my favorite kinds of meals. Filled with wine, my family, and freshly caught seafood. Dad had caught Striped Bass and dug a bucket of steamers the day before and Mom and I had filled out own bucket with quahogs. We feasted on our hand caught bounty under a sky filled with stars normally obscured by skyscrapers.

Maybe I listened to too much Phish in high school, but this night bestowed upon me a kind of hippie euphoria that only self-sufficiency can provide. It gives me a certain amount of pleasure to know that, without any kind of modern convenience, we gathered and produced our own meal. Barring of course the automobile and motorboat taken to procure our protein.

I guess one could say I do possess this bohemian agrestic nature that allows me to love the earth in this way. And really fresh fish. Okay so basically gardening and shell fishing are the only two hobbies I have had any real success at, so I am just going to roll with this. Can’t wait for Scallop and Oyster season to begin!