More Ice Fishing, and long
Once upon a time, during my youthful escapades, I found myself adventuring through the icy landscapes of Siberia during the frigid heart of winter. My companion, Pavel, brimming with local expertise, suggested we try our luck at the age-old tradition of ice fishing.
Bundled in the thickest attire and armed with fishing gear and steaming cups of coffee, we set about our task. We carved a portal through the ice’s crust and settled in for the catch. Despite our efforts and switching baits, the fish proved elusive.
Meanwhile, nearby, an elderly gentleman defied our luck, continually drawing fish from his hole with an ease that bordered on magical. Overcome by inquisitiveness, I approached him to inquire about his technique.
With his jaws clamped shut, he mumbled, “Rrrmmbble krrmp leejapp soomin.” The words escaped my comprehension, sounding more like a mystery language than any advice.
Eager for clarity, I asked for a translation. Again, with teeth firmly pressed together, he grumbled, “Rrrghat kp shrrp sumfn sharrrm.”
My brows furrowed in confusion. “Apologies, I’m lost. I’ll ask Pavel to interpret,” I told him, defeated by the linguistic puzzle.
Removing a glove, he placed his hand before his mouth and—I realized—was actually holding something. Suddenly articulate, he declared, “You have to keep your worms warm,” before popping the writhing ball of worms back into his mouth.
*For your own amusement, feel free to devise your interpretations of the fisherman’s muffled words.
Ever since then, whenever muffled speech infiltrates our household dialogue, I can’t help but inquire if someone’s preparing for a trip to ice fish!