That Old Dock

Howdy, Neighbor. People have been telling Phil he’s a good storyteller for a long time… so we are trying something new and pretty-much non-sales Just sharing occasional sweet stories, tall tales, and life lessons learned around these parts. Northwoods Notes are a new, semi-bi-irregular peek into the heart and mind of Phil Frasier… you can read or listen… whichever you prefer… and you are receiving a copy because you’re a current customer of Frasier’s Plumbing and Heating, Inc. We think you’ll like them, but you can unsubscribe any time by clicking on the link at the bottom. But we hope you give us a chance!

Listen:

Read:

I’d buy a piece here, and another piece there. I’d keep adding pieces as I could afford them. None of them matched. But that’s okay. It gave our Frankensteined dock a little bit of character.

We’ve made a lot of memories on that old dock. Kids jumping and swimming. All of us pushing one another into the lake.

It’s stained with blood and guts from all the fish we caught and cleaned.

Somewhere there’s a photograph of me releasing a 40-inch musky and my son Chad screaming trying to get out of the water.

I can’t tell you how many pairs of glasses I’ve lost off that old dock.

One day, my nephew needed a knife, so he raided my prized collection in my garage and came out with a specially made engraved knife. Damascus steel with a leather sheath. It was a thing of beauty, and it was given to me by a fishing client as a thank you for being his guide. At the time, it was worth over 700 dollars.

My nephew brought my knife down to the dock… and wouldn’t you know it, he dropped it into the drink. As my grandpa always said, “It’s thirty feet of loon crap down there.”

I recently purchased a super strong magnet. One of these days I’ll use it to retrieve the unretrievable.

This old, uneven, dilapidated, pieced-together dock has been with us since 1996. It’s had a good run. But now, it’s time for an upgrade.

We’ll construct our new dock out there on top of the ice. When everything melts, the dock will settle in nice and level.

I’m looking forward to our dock. I just hope we don’t lose any seven hundred dollar knives off it.

But y’know what… even if we do, the memories will be priceless.

I hope there’s a dock out there somewhere in your world, too. It doesn’t have to be on a lake. Heck, it doesn’t even have to be a real dock. It’s wherever you and the people you love can spend time and make memories.

Take care, neighbor. Take good care.

P.S. – This is one of my most prized photographs taken on that old dock.