This site is a showcase for personal stories. I am blessed with friends who have begun to tell me their fun, quirky tales because they know I love them. And because I badger them into recording them.

Don, my high school classmate, is becoming a master at telling tales. At the launch of our line of memoir products this spring, I read a story that Don had written because it showed what a treasure trove a tall tale can be to the grandchildren he shared it with. By recording it for posterity, no matter how long Don has yet to reside on earth, his children and grandchildren will remember him fondly every time they read about “Donnie’s Pond”. Here is the story, guaranteed to bring a smile and a chuckle.

Papa and the pond

By Don Fielder

Lately at dinner I’ve been relating stories from my youth and other times in my life to my grandsons, my daughter and son-in-law. Recently the subject came up about how hot it can get in Texas during the summer. Sam asked me if it ever got really hot at my farm. I said, “Oh yeah, but nothing like Texas. But I remember one summer a few years ago, it was terribly hot and humid at the farm.”

Mason asked, “Well Papa, didn’t you have air conditioning?”

I said yes, but it was so hot the air was running morning, noon and night trying to keep the house cool. Well, one afternoon I had been working outside and I was just so hot and uncomfortable I jumped in the pond, swam out to the middle and with a HUGE, DEEP BREATH, held my nose and slipped under the water, slowly sinking to the bottom and just sat there on the bottom of the pond in the mud and enjoyed the coolness of the water.

I could tell by the look on their faces my grandsons were both amazed, impressed and doubtful, all at the same time. Even Sam, the 15-year-old, spent a few seconds believing I actually did sit at the bottom of my pond.

Ethan exclaimed, “Papa you didn’t really do that did you?”

I said, “Darn tootin’ I did. I sat down there and said hello to a big snapping turtle that came by to investigate what I was doing. Said hello to some Bass and Bluegill curious to my presence. I told all the fishies not to worry, I’d be going pretty soon. But if they didn’t mind, I would like to sit here just a little while longer.”

Mr. Bass said, “Sure, but don’t take too long. You gotta get up there to go fishing and try and catch me pretty soon.”

Miss Bluegill said, “Yeah, but throw me a smaller hook, would ya?”

“I’ll do that, Miss Bluegill. Sorry ’bout always using the big hook.”

Just then Mr. Crappie came by and rudely told me to find another pond to sit in and stop trying to catch him all the time, then flipped me the fin and swam off. Crappie always have a crappy attitude.

Mason remarked, “I don’t believe you Papa.”

I said, “Mason, if I’m lyin’ I’m dyin’. But I did eventually go back up to the surface and swim to shore. By this time it was later in the afternoon. A nice breeze was blowing and my soaking wet clothes kept me nice and cool as I walked up the hill to the house.”

Even though my grandsons knew I was telling a fictitious story, Ethan asked me, “What about your clothes? They must have been muddy from sitting on the bottom of the pond.”

I said, “ I just took everything off in the laundry room, added my muddy damp clothing to the rest of my dirty clothes, and pretty much walked around the house naked, scratching my bum.”

Cries of “O-o-o-o Papa!” brought my tale to a close, no pun intended.