December 18, 1995

Dear Denise,
Thanks for your invitation to attend Christmas festivities with the Gimus’ and the rest of the Boe family. We won’t be able to be there in person, but we would like to be there in spirit. So, toward that end, please have one of my brothers-in-law (Dave or Joe?) let me know when the ice fishing is scheduled. . . I still remember like it was yesterday the time 12 years or so ago when they took the “pigeon” from Montana to one of Minnesota’s great icefishing lakes to snag some “big ones.” (I think Gary and maybe Tony were also involved in this, but I remember that the main culprits were Dave and Joe.) In fact, I am reminded of this fishing outing every time I look down at my still-numb feet!

That day’s events in chronological order from my perspective:
10 am
Arrive at lake . . . temp. -20 degrees with 20 mph wind . . . I’m not concerned because brothers-in-law have told me that the fall jacket and tennis shoes I’m wearing are warmer and more conducive to ice fishing than the six layers of clothing, plus parkas, plus insulated boots they’re wearing.
10:15 am
Unload the fish house.
11:30 am
After standing on ice for over an hour, finally select “the spot” for fish house—I still have feeling from my knees up!
11:35 am
Drill hole, break out lines.
11:45 am
Line is wet for 38 seconds, at which point someone says, “They’re not biting.”
11:46 am
Load fish house and move to another remote part of the lake.
11:55 am
Unload fish house and head to town for lunch.
2 pm
Head back to lake. Several unsuspecting fools think we know where the fish are and there are now a half-dozen fish houses around ours!
2:05 pm
Hole drilled . . . line in water for 27 seconds. Comment is made that “this area is fished out!”
2:10 pm
Load and move fish house to another part of the lake.
2:20 pm – 5 pm
Spend over 2H hours talking about how cold it’s been, how cold it is, and how much colder it’s going to get! Drill hole at some point. Somehow there is never room for me in the fish house or the pickup. During this time line gets wet for 56 seconds.
5:01 pm
Load fish house and move to another part of lake. Drill hole. Don’t wet line.
5:15 pm
Head back to town for dinner. I now have no feeling from my chest down and only partial feeling in my arms! Literally all my pipes are frozen, but I can think clearly and I am thinking about paying $200 to call a plumber and have them thawed!
6:30 pm
Decide to call plumber when favorite brothers-in-law tell me that nighttime ice fishing is best, that now we’ll use hook and bait, that I’m the only one who gets to “wet line,” and best of all, we’re going to “fire up the stove.”
8 pm
Back to lake. Begin attempts to “fire up stove.”
8:50 pm
Stove “fired up.” Wet line (I get to!) for 42 seconds.
8:51 pm
One problem—stovepipe won’t stay connected and smoke fills fish house!
8:52 pm
Is this déjà vu or what? I am back on the ice in my tennies! Spend over H hour on ice trying to figure out what to do when fire finally puts itself out.
9 pm
Load fish house.
9:05 pm
Count fish.
9:05 & H second pm
Head back to town. Much talk about what a great day’s fishing it has been . . . talk from everyone but me, that is—my larynx is frozen, I can’t speak, and I refuse to pay plumber another $200. Now the whole family is happy, they don’t have to listen to me whine!
10:30 pm – 6 am
Stay up all night plotting as to how I’ll get even with brothers-in law . . .
6:01 am
got it! For one, I’ll wait several years, get him out to Montana on vacation, feed him tainted food and get him gut-wrenching sick one day and take him on a float trip the next . . . spin raft round and round down the Clark Fork river for three hours in 95 degree heat, all the time inwardly laughing as he turns various shades of green. For the other . . . heh, heh, heh . . . what and when will it be, Dave???

Anyway, from the whole Kasteliz family to all the Boe families . . . Merry Christmas, Veselli Neuvo Godina, and pass the lutefisk!!