The Minnesota Farm Woman

Our property adjoins a beautiful little creek, and once the snow melts, I am asked at least a couple of times a day, “Are the suckers running yet?” For those of you who don’t know, a sucker is a type of fish. Spring is the time for the suckers to spawn, and on a good year, the creeks here in the northland are teeming with them. People stand on the banks or wade in and spear them. Smoked sucker is divine and canned smoked sucker is even better. I had my little plan in place for as much self-sufficiency as possible. David would clean and smoke the fish, and I would can them. I pictured the pantry lined up with beautiful jars, neatly labeled like something out of a magazine. The first spring that we were here I got the word out to the neighborhood kids that I would like some suckers. What I didn’t tell them was just HOW MANY I wanted, or WHEN I wanted them. I always learn my lessons the hard way. The suckers were running full force on a beautiful warm spring weekend. David had decided to head for Kentucky for a week or two to visit his dad. I had no sooner waved goodbye and started relaxing with a cup of coffee and a gardening magazine when my friend called to tell me her son and his friend had just dropped off some suckers on my front porch. They must have been really strong kids, because what they “dropped off” was a VAT of suckers. You know those large black containers that ten- foot trees come in? Yup. One of those. Full. Am I a lucky girl or what? Now, I don’t let many people in on this little secret, but I do know how to clean fish. Please note that I didn’t say I LIKED to clean fish, nor am I any good at it, I just know HOW to clean them. This just might take me all night, so I grimly started the task at hand. It was a slow and pretty icky job. I did run into some luck, though. Another neighborhood kid was driving by and noticed me surrounded by blood and guts and stopped in. He was probably wondering just who or what I had killed. He LOVED to clean fish, he told me, and he also LOVED Skittles candy. I handed him the knife and made a quick getaway to the Bowstring Store. They never once questioned why a middle-aged woman who smelled like fish guts quickly rushed in, bought two jumbo-sized bags of Skittles, then rushed out again. I guess they must be used to seeing things stranger than that, but I noticed they locked the door behind me. From now on, I get the word out that I want A FEW suckers. No more than ten. I also make sure my husband isn’t planning any trips at sucker spearing time. Each time I opened a jar of delicious smoked fish that winter, I thought of springtime and sunshine and wonderful neighborhood kids who shared their skills and their catch and made me feel very welcome in my new Minnesota neighborhood.