Remember the problem we were having with strangers showing up down at the Creach? The creek beach on our private gravel road, down by the mailboxes? Well, the Creacher sightings have slacked off. Probably due to the end of summer. Maybe because our residents started giving them a hard time by asking WHY they were on private property if they weren't a resident. Or perhaps because the unknown mailbox thief interrupted the ne'er-do-welling of the Creachers themselves.
Anyhoo... we haven't seen many Creachers lately.
Or maybe it's just my schedule. I've been going to town later now, because the mail gets here later. I used to go around 11:00, and return around noon. No point in making my trip before mail is available. So perhaps the Creachers have been there and left, but I didn't see them.
Anyhoo... as I was walking down the aisle of the Gas Station Chicken Store on Friday, I heard a man at the register telling a buddy and the cashier that he'd had a rough day on Thursday. He was about mid-50s, neither portly, nor a Skeletor. Just a guy in jeans with a beer belly.
"I was out on [county blacktop road], getting minnows out of the creek. Them rocks are slippery! They're covered with slime. You can't see it, but it's slick! I fell backwards in the creek! I was only in a couple inches of water, because the creek is real low, but I hurt the back of my head. And my billfold was in my back pocket! I laid there for several minutes. I couldn't get up! And to make it worse, I didn't even catch anything with the minnows I got out of there."
I didn't say anything to him. He was on his way out. But I told the cashier,
"That's where I live! If I'd seen him laying in the creek, I would have stopped to see if he was okay."
Because I'm human, you know. And selfless like that. When I told Farmer H and The Pony, they were seemed to think I would not have helped the guy! As if I'm some kind of inhuman monster!
"Let's face it, Mom. You probably wouldn't have."
"I would too! I wouldn't let somebody die there!"
"Well, you probably wouldn't be able to get to him. With your knees. I doubt you could have walked down there. You would have had to call me or Dad or 911 for help. So you might have TRIED to help him."
"Okay. Yeah. It would have been hard."
"Or you might have walked out there and said, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? DO YOU LIVE HERE?"
Heh, heh. Farmer H overestimates my confrontational skills.
3 comments:
Aren't there places around where you live where you can buy bait? It doesn't seem like a good idea to go down a hill to a creek all by yourself.
Things happen. Sometimes those things are accidental. Sometimes they're not.
I like to think you would at least call out to ask if he was okay and should you call someone to help. I certainly wouldn't expect you to climb down slippery rocks with your creaky knees, you might end up just as he did!
Sioux,
Let's face it, Creachers are not the kind of people who are willing to BUY something when it sits there perfectly free on somebody else's property. Although technically, nobody owns the waterways, so if you can magically teleport yourself into the water, you can harvest whatever you desire. Farmer H says that's only for NAMED bodies of water, but I'm not so sure. Our nameless creek flows directly into a NAMED river.
A few years ago, it seemed like every gas station and convenience store had a mini fridge for selling crickets and worms. I haven't noticed them lately, because I haven't been out as much, and I haven't been fishing.
***
River,
Or worse, I COULD FALL ON HIM AND FINISH HIM OFF!
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