(See translation below.)
Once agin, anudder ole mauzey twenty-fort-a May weekend. It never fails! The wedder could be perfect all week, but come da long weekend, and you're guaranteed drizzle or sloppy snow (or like the poor buggers in Cent-rel got, full blown snow!). So I wakes up Saturday morning and looks trew me window. R, D and F, as us Newfies are so accustomed to: Rain, Drizzle and Fog. I pulls da blankets up over me head. Not even the taughts of a bile up can entice me out of da fart sack. But he's self would have none of it! He was goin' troutin'n o matter what the wedder. Since I drove all da way to Town to see in, I spose I had to get up and go troutin wit 'in. So off we goes and loads the Rhino aboard da truck.
I wasn't too concerned wit gettin' cold. I had me winter parka wit me, see? And a good pair of cowshit rubbers, right? So I was all sot. Just to be on the safe side, doh, I trew a blanket in da Rhino to go over me legs in case it got too cold. So off we goes, in around Bay Bulls-Big Pond (which Townies tinks is the cunt-ry. Sure if dey goes past da over-pass dey tinks dere out in da bay! But I digress.)
So da troutin' was goin' good, right? I caught meself two beauts, but den, go figure, I goes and falls head over heels in a mud bog. Honest to my God, I was mud arse hole to naval. And friggin' froze to det besides! So I curls up in da Rhino under me blanket and texts he's self, who had shagged off about a mull down the gully: Get me da frig outta here, I'm froze! So dat was the end of it fer me. I was so pissed off, I didn't even bodder wit da bile up, and you can ask anybody, dat's not like me. Not atall. I fair loves me bile ups!
Once again, another unseasonably cold Victoria Day weekend in Newfoundland. It never fails! The weather could be perfect all week, but once the long weekend arrives, the weather forecast is likely to be drizzle or light snow (or as those poor people in Central Newfoundland experienced, several centimeters of snow!). So I woke up on Saturday morning and looked through my window. R, D & F, as we Newfoundlanders are so accustomed to: Rain, Drizzle and Fog. I pulled the duvet up over my head. Not even the thought of a meal cooked on the trial could entice me out of the bed. But my partner would have none of it! He was going fishing for trout no matter what the weather. Since I drove all the way to St. John's to see him, I suppose I had to get up and go fishing with him. So we loaded our side-by-side all terrain vehicle (ATV) on to the truck.
I wasn't too concerned with getting cold, since I had a winter jacket and a pair of rubber boots. So I was all set. Just to be on the safe side though, I threw a blanket in the ATV to go over my legs in case it got too cold. So off we went, to Bay Bulls-Big Pond (which people from St. John's tend to think is in the country. If they even go past the overpass, they tend to think they are out in the bay. But I digress.)
The fishing for trout was proceeding very well. I had caught myself two fine specimens, but then, as fate would have it, I fell into a mud bog. I was completely covered in mud, and cold besides! So I curled up in the ATV under my blanket and texted my partner, who had wandered about a mile down the river: Please take me home, Darling. I am really cold! So that was the end of the adventure for me. I was so disillusioned, I didn't even bother with the outdoor cook-up, and you can ask anybody, that is not like me. Not at all. I absolutely love having boil ups!
Submitted By: Florence Strang