There was a time when a hole in my schedule might be plugged writing an article for this blog (like the fishing report and Gierach book review I owe you slobs), but these days, a free couple of hours might find me at the sandwich shop buying a meatball sub to split with M2, who — being the younger kid — doesn’t get nearly as many solo outings as her older sister.
She can’t cast and frankly, she’s a danger to herself and others when she lays hand on a fly rod, but taking her fishing (this her first time) is still a remarkable amount of fun.
At least until she announces it’s time to make poopie.
Fun, it seems, is never wholly without cost.
Still, stealing her away from pre-school two hours early feels like a hard-earned jailbreak to both of us.
No trout were caught — and I knew that was probably going to be the case — but I did take advantage of the visit to note my little creek is already showing some bones, and this in the midst of our typical roaring “runoff” period.
See you at the sub shop, Tom Chandler.