Tall Tales and Sawfish!

  Somehow I inherited several sawfish bills.  These are from the time before the fish became protected and killing the fish for its bill was the thing to do. Whoever enacted the law to protect these fine creatures was a pure genius! It is a shame to kill any animal needlessly. But I actually have two very large bills and two tiny ones.  None were actually caught by Pop but were given to him by one of his friends but, like I said, I am in ownership of them now.  I never thought much about the things since they were always around the house when I was a kid.  Mom never knew just what to do with them and since it was not stylish to display such items at the time. She would stick them in the corner somewhere.  Usually, they remained out of sight unless Pop decided to tell some tall tale to visitors.  

  There was one time that one of the bills was laid across an old trunk on the screened porch.  This trunk was positioned under some bedroom windows and, as kids, it was our habit to climb out the window instead of going all the way into the living room to get to the porch.  My poor sister had the misfortune to use the window when the bill was on the trunk.  She climbed out and put her knee down directly on top of one of the sharp "teeth" on the bill.  The thing became embedded in her knee and promptly broke off of the bill.  I can remember the agony she went through as Pop had to use a large needle to dig the thing out of her flesh.  My poor sister!!  To this day, she has a scar and a tall tale of how the sawfish got her!

  Once I became in possession of the bills, the tales did not stop.  I do believe that my favorite was spouted off the top of my head during a Christmas party we had at the Little Bayou House.  Some of Mark's teenage nephews were eyeing the bills that I had mounted on the wall.  "Hey, what are these?" they asked.  Well, never one to turn down a good opportunity, my mouth started spieling a tale of the sawfish bills. I wove a huge tale of how Pop took me out fishing when I was just a lass and I hooked the huge fish.  The tale told how it took me nigh on seven hours to reel him in but I was determined to do it myself.  By the time the story was in full swing, I knew I had them totally believing my every word.  It was then that I slipped in the final line that I had THEM "hook, line and sinker."  They never heard.  Those boys were so enthralled by my story that they never realized that I was joshing them.  Mark's Uncle Stanley was listening to the tale and when I spouted that part, he burst out laughing.  He knew I was pulling their legs and they were falling for my every word.  

  This just goes to show that not only did I inherit some very unusual items, I also inherited the ability to weave some mighty tall tales!  Thank you, Pop!  The storytelling ability is an amazing gift!