A Little Me Time

Yesterday evening as I and the Bundles were waiting for our take-out Chinese to be ready, we wandered down to the river behind the restaurant to observe a man fly fishing.   There were fish rising behind him, but I didn’t let him know.  There are browns in that part of the river, and it’s a perfect place to throw a blue-winged olive.  But I had two kids in tow.  I don’t think I’ve broken out the fly rod in at least two years.  Last year I fished for bluegill with a spin rod, bobber, worms and Bundle I… but it just isn’t the same.  One can barely call it fishing.

That night I told Lionel that I needed some alone time.  He agreed and took himself and the kids away for the day.

But I didn’t go fishing.

I watered the apples.

I planted sugar pumpkins.

I mowed the orchard, the side field and the backyard.

I moved the chicken coop.

I watered and fed the chickens.

I did a load of dishes.

The fish… they’ll keep rising.  Someday I’ll get back to them.  The river’s not going anywhere.


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