Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The Signs Are Clear

One of my most enjoyable aspects of visiting a "furrin country" (*well, other than not comprehending the exchange value of the currency I'm spending - 'jes kiddin' there, folks) is the novelty of the street signage. Many of us may already be familiar with "Mind the Gap" signs at London train platforms. How they became so famous, I don't know. But there are other not-so-familiar postings that are equally intriguing. Here are a few I found amusing.

"Now, I know that head of mine is around here somewhere...?"

"Ye Olde Grit-and-Sand Box...""Finally, a clear way out of a no way situation..."
"No butts about it...""Trust us, we wouldn't put you through this if it wasn't absolutely essential..."... and finally my favorite that I didn't get my own photo, but nevertheless saw many of...

"Never say you weren't warned about this in advance..."

Monday, September 28, 2009

Quoth the Raven

None of the Ravens at the Tower of London are named "Edgar," but given their association to the famous poem by Poe, it would be appropriate.

We watched this guy - named Edgar, by me - rummage though the trash bin pulling out wrapper after wrapper, littering the ground with refuse, until he found the perfect leftover fish-and-chips morsel. I was left wondering whose job is it to pick up ravens' discards?

The legend of the Tower Ravens is that they originally arrived as carrion-eaters - their "leftovers" were the remains of the gruesomely executed. Remember what happened to Mel Gibson at the end of Braveheart? The further legend is that if they ever vacate the Tower of London, the monarchy will fall. Care is taken to avoid this in that their wings are now clipped. No one I asked admitted that this had ever happened, but I read an article in National Geographic that claims the unthinkable once did happen, witnessed personally by the author. In 1993, a raven named Jackie "got hold of a favorable wind and was last seen gliding toward London's traffic-choked business center." This was during the time of the Queen's declared "annus horribilus," and it seemed just possible to imagine her reigning days were numbered.

Happily, that story had a fairy-tale ending. Jackie was found in a neighboring yard by a woman who tried to feed him. He obliged by biting her.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

A Ruined Castle

There is a natural order of decay in the universe.
But Nature has its own way of preservation and beautification.

Originally, the home of the Earls of Marischal, Dunnottar Castle played pivotal roles in the history of Scotland, including the rescuing of the Scottish Regalia from the destructive clutches of Oliver Cromwell. The "Honours of Scotland" are on view today in Edinburgh Castle only because they were securely hidden, then spirited away from this fortress location.
The last Earl was convicted of treason for his part in the Jacobite uprising of 1715 (was he hung, drawn and quartered at the Tower of London?) The Castle was seized by the government and thereafter neglected until 1925 when the 1st Viscountess Cowdray embarked on a systematic "repair."

However, it is clear that Nature still rules.

Hornet Haven. Warning, stay away!

This is my fishing hole. I have a patent on this tie up place so if you happen to be in the neighborhood, and I'm fishing that day, stay away. If you see this and look directly to your right, you will see some pretty scary looking hornets. They are my paid security system.

This is hornet haven. Now you will have to blow up this pic and look just above the loose bark. Those hornets are hiding behind that loose bark. It's hard to see, but a couple of the boys are visible.

Actually they aren't hornets, I think they are paper wasps but there is no ring to saying paper wasp haven so I'm keeping it hornet haven. They must be there gathering materials for their nest.

Those wasps may be intimidating looking but as long as you don't threaten them, they won't hurt you. I wouldn't even think of threatening them.

The nests of these paper wasps are in many of the trees along the river. You have to watch out for them when meandering through some of the tight cuts. Don't want your face to slam into one of those wasp nests. Now I have gotten a line hung up in a tree with one of those huge wasp nests in it. I have also been stubborn enough to still want my lure back that the tree tried to hold on it. Even pulling and shaking the tree has not really pissed off the wasps. I only do it from a distance and when I am prepared to make a quick retreat.

Now this is what makes taking all the risks worth it. There have been several of these fellows hanging out under those tree limbs. That's a good size fish there. I have fairly long fingers and that fish was a hand full.

That fish is called a white perch or crappy. It's good eating. Just think of that baby coated with corn meal. I fillet these fish before I cook them, wouldn't want my dinner looking back at me.

Now our friend Craig Crawford at Trailmix says he has a fantasy of one day running a fish camp when he retires. Craig, you need to come visit "The Swamp". We could maybe teach you a thing or two. You need to get your feet a little muddy, to see if you like it.
This pic has nothing to do with hornet haven. I found something growing in the front yard. It looked like a tall asparagus. I mowed around it so I could see what that asparagus would turn in to. It turned in to a red spider lily. One
of my critters must have left the the seed. It was a nice gift. The red spider lily is poisonous and it's planted in Japan to keep the mice away.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Braveheart's Castle

It wasn't his castle exactly. But like George Washington, William Wallace slept everywhere and this was one of the places. In our minds, we pictured Mel Gibson flapping around in his kilt. There is nothing like a man in a kilt...

It was a mystical, magical place, a perfect setting to spark the imagination and flights of fantasy.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Was it a miracle or just luck?

Four years and two days ago, Maggie and I packed our bags and headed to the jail to ride out hurricane Rita. Most of the people in town and the prisoners had already evacuated. We were left behind.

Just before we left the house, I asked the "Virgin Mary", represented by a small little statue my sister Mary brought me home from Mexico, to watch over the place. It's not much I said but it is our home. I always had a fondness for the concept of the "Virgin Mary".

It was four days after the storm hit before I could escape from the jail to get just 8 miles down the road to see if we had anything left. I was so excited to see that our house was still standing even though it was hard to see it because it was hidden behind all the trees that were down.

My yard is full of trees and I just love every one of them. Several of them were down. One of the downed trees was the biggest and tallest pine trees in the yard. There was only one small space where it could fall and land without doing major damage to anything and that tree managed to drop precisely in that space. The top landed in my driveway right between my little bass boat and a friend's pontoon boat that he parked in my driveway. It was a miracle.

I just had the last remnants of the trunk of that tree ground up two weeks ago.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Just Hanging Out

Spanish moss likes to hang out down here in lazy Louisiana and other parts of the coastal south. With the improvement in our air quality, there is more of it hanging around lately. It doesn’t like air pollution and will not grow over a house or camp that has a fireplace.

Spanish moss is not a moss at all, it is a member of the bromeliad family like the pineapple. Don’t try to eat it because it has no nutritional value and doesn’t taste good either. If it did, I'd be cooking up a mess of it every now and again.

Spanish moss hangs out in trees and prefers certain trees to others like the cypress, gum trees, oaks, elms, and pecan trees. It can grow from a seed but more often is carried from tree to tree by the wind and birds.

Animals and birds use Spanish moss as a nesting material. People in the south have also used it as a nesting material. Spanish moss is good mattress stuffing material when it is hot outside because air circulates well through it.

When the winds from hurricane Rita blew much of the Spanish moss out of the trees around here just 4 years ago about this time, typhoon Carol went and threw it back up there. Don’t mess with my moss.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Happy Birthday Ivy!

Faithful, kind and always true
Reassuring through and through
Insightful in your wise advice
Enthusiastic, sweet and nice
Noted for your smiling face
Dear friend, no one could take your place


Monday, September 21, 2009

Holy Anole!

Well, I found this little anole bedded down on my Norfolk Island Pine last night. I wouldn't take a picture last night because I didn't want to disturb it early in it's sleep cycle. It would have been mean. I might have pondered that all night if I did.
This morning, close to sun up, I thought it might be OK. This little fellow hasn't moved so I hope it's still alive and didn't just die on that branch. I will check after the sun comes up to make sure. Also I hope I didn't point out to some hungry owl that it was there.
Now it's way too early to come up with some cute poem about anoles like Ivy and Jan have about the critters they displayed in their posts, but you are welcome to try to find one. We have already discussed that most of us thought that these little critters were called chameleons but we were wrong.
Kids love anoles. I think every kid thats come around the camp has found one and played with it. Some even like to keep them as pets which is alright but they do require a lot of care. If kept out of harms way, they can live beyond seven years. There is a website devoted to proper care for your anole.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Slow and steady

Here is a picture of a garden snail on our front porch this morning. She was a lovely little snail. Unfortunately, we left for about 2 hours and when we returned she was nowhere to be found. She was headed for a planter on our porch, but she didn't make it. We think a roadrunner may have gotten her. We heard one in our yard this morning.

I found some interesting information about snails

A snail's life by S. Seagraves:

Snails evolved from sea snails 600 million years ago
Snails hibernate during the winter and live on stored fat.
Snails are nocturnal
Snails cannot hear and have poor eyesight
Snails rely on their senses of touch & smell to hunt for food
Snails travel in irregular paths, often in a circle
Snails may live up to 15 years
The largest snail ever found was 15 inches long and weighed 2 lbs
Snails bodies produce a thick slime, because of this slime they can crawl across the edge of a razor and not get hurt.
Snails are hermaphrodites, they have both male and female reproductive organs

A little poem by R. Wayne Edwards:

Where he goes he leaves a trail.
When he goes where he shouldn't be,
his trail is there for all to see.
Our life is like the little snail.
Where we go we will leave a trail.
The things we do and the things we say
are the trail we leave from day to day.


From Jwayland

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Which nut should it be?

I'm trying to decide on a nut. One that looks crazy and doesn't taste very good. That nut should be the new logo for the Republican Party.

The Republican Party used to have some high ideals. They may have even been conservative at one time. When people like Chuck Hagel helped to represent the party, there was sanity there. He was a man that when I saw him on TV, I stopped to listen to what he had to say. He was an intelligent and reasonable man. Why did he leave? Now it seems that the only people who represent that party are the crazy, angry nuts. Even those who didn't used to be are moving in that direction.

We have a significant portion of our population who are angry and crazy so I guess we need a party to represent those people. I've even felt that way many times in my life but really never quite as angry and crazy as those who now seem to be getting all the attention in the Republican Party.

Can the Republican party make a come back by going nuts? Does anyone have any suggestions for that nut?

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The Little Guy that Couldn't, Did.

Tonight was the finals of "America's Got Talent". They had some pretty amazing talent included in that group of ten finalists and the little guy with the least talent won.

I had invested weeks in watching that show and I don't usually ever consistently watch anything on network TV. Tonight, a guy who described himself as a chicken catcher but couldn't really carry a tune in a bucket, won the whole enchilada. I think it had to be because he worked as a chicken catcher, had this good old boy country accent and wasn't much to look at.

It must have been that he represented the little guy in America. The guy who usually finishes dead last, and a guy who doesn't have much to look forward to in life except the simple things. Maybe with all that's going on in this country, America wanted to give it to the little guy.

Really, is there such a job as a chicken catcher?

Monday, September 14, 2009

Hummer migration has begun.

I've noticed a sharp increase in the number of humming birds that visit my feeder so their migration must be starting. I keep one feeder up all year but yesterday I added another one. I may add more later.

Those little buggers do like to fight over the sugar water. I would like to mention that the water does not have to be red as long as there is some red on your feeder. The red in commercially prepared nectar is from a red dye and may not be good for those little hummers. Just use one part white granulated sugar to four parts water.

I've read that if they are fighting over the nectar, make one feeder a little sweeter and the bully hummer will go for that one. They are supposed to be able to tell how sweet it is from looking at the water. Amazing.

Wikipedia reports that the hummingbirds heart rate has been clocked as high as 1260 beats per minute. Whew, that makes me short of breath thinking about it. Because of their high metobolism, they are continuously hours away from starving to death so get your feeders out there folkes.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Large and In-Charge

This photo was taken at the mountain cabin of my life-long friend, the one who I refer to with utmost affection as "Bear Woman." This is one of her bears that I personally encountered on my recent journey north. Can you see me peeking out of the door from the porch? No, just kidding. On this occasion, I was not present. The day I was there, the bear was even closer, and there were two of them!

I have become much more aware of the proximity of bears, and indeed many forms of wildlife, to human habitation. In these instances, it is the wild animal that loses. We humans move into their space, and then can't abide their presence or their nature-dictated ways. It remains to be seen what happens to the unfortunate creature lately in the news in Colorado.

In the meantime, there are lessons to be gleaned from Bears:

Live Large

Climb Beyond Your Limitations

When Life gets Hairy, Grin and Bear it

Eat (Berry) Well

Live with the Seasons

Take a Good Long Nap

Look After Your Honey

(adapted from Ilan Shamir)

Can't we all just get along....

I'ts so easy to hate others, and so easy to go to war with the ones that you hate....but do we really hate them?? or are we doing what our religion tell us to do...conquer the other false religions?

On 9/11. I asked my family that are mainly Catholic if I could share something that I thought was truly hateful: not that the bombing of the twin towers wasn't a hateful act...but I believe that they were doing what they ( these particular individuals) were taught to do, nothing more and nothing less, by the people on power. Not for hate but for greed.

When you truly hate someone or something: This hatred can not be satisfied by sending others to do can only be quenches when you can take part in this hatred.!

I told them, asked them if the following was the same, more , or not at all.

There was a true story, and a movie called the "White Dog"

It started with a great looking grandfather playing with his little granddaughter in the yard. She was asking him all of the questions, that little girls will ask....the way that he talked, held, and answered every question with patience was the perfect picture......they had a little white German Sheppard puppy that they were playing with also....

They were in the front yard of a very large mansion, when one of his workers answered the voice at the front gate. He went to the grandfather and told him that everything was ready. The G. F. took his little G. D. by the hand and walked outside of the property. On the out side there was one of his workers pointing to an old blk man, that was sitting on the ground, leaning against the brick wall-that very high, and thick.

This older blk man was a wino, and alcoholic, and was homeless. He was asked if he wanted some money to get wine, or whatever he wanted...he said “yes”. The little girl was asked to bring the whit puppy around and let the wino see it. What he had to do to earn his money was to beat that puppy until it bled...right in front of the little girl.

This went on for at least three years....the little girl seeing a blk man beating the white dog, and the dog hating the smell of a blk man. When this dog was 165 lbs they let it loose in a blk neighborhood, and he was furious, and chased a blk man right into a church, where they showed him killing this man in the pew.

I told-asked my family that this was real hatred, this was real terror, even more so, or as evil as what they did on 9/11....I was told by my brother the Decon....that this was absurd.......a few weeks later he called me, and said that he could not get that story out of his mind...that I was right....I don't want to be right...I want things to be understood...thats what drives all things

Now I have told everyone that I know, that if you really want to make someone happy.....make your self happy first....not in a selfish way, but happy in the way that will make you grow as a person.....if that other person truly loves you, that will make them

Friday, September 11, 2009

Monday, September 7, 2009

Now that's a lunker!

Couldn't come up with any new ponders off the top of my head this morning so I decide I'd go do my favorite activity for pondering. This morning it involved using a little Chug Bug off the wharf. Well even though I wasn't hit by a ponder, I was hit by a nice bass. I was having a hankering for some fish with my lemon juice tonight. Ahhhhh. Life on the river. Nothing's better.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

An Elephant Tale

First, please imagine hearing this story in your best "Queen's English." That's the way it was related to me. The teller was James, a Londoner, a colleague of Hubs, and a good friend to us both. Last year, James took his family on a much-anticipated safari to Africa. His son, Christopher, 12, was especially keen to see wildlife and have a story to share with his mates at school.

Elephants in the wild are not to be trifled with. They can be fierce and protective and, when riled, quite dangerous. Christopher was sternly warned in advance that if elephants were encountered, they were not to be disturbed in any way. Soon enough, the family's guided jeep tour came upon a herd of grazing elephants. It was not long before a baby elephant ventured forward to investigate these strange creatures from an alien world. The calf's chosen specimen was...Christopher! He reached his trunk inside the vehicle for a very close "look" at the frozen lad. His parents too, sat with bated breath, praying that Christopher had the presence of mind and courage to recall and heed the prior instructions, to do nothing that would provoke the calf. The herd remained an ominous presence in the near distance.

Suddenly, an adult member of the herd bolted forward and snatched the young 'un away from the boy in the jeep. Next, the calf was being dragged away, screaming in protest while the larger animal, now obviously its mother, thrashing away with her enormous trunk, spanked the poor bairn all the way back to the herd. As the jeep finally drove off, James swears he heard the scolding tones of a distressed mother, "What did I say to you? Never go near those awful humans, they are nah-sty, nah-sty creatures, I tell you!"

Rescue dogs are the very best kind

Here is Jan's pup story:

Our dog's name is Lobie. We met her when we were living in NW Arkansas - just east of the Okla border. In fact Okla was on the other side of our back yard. Our house was just outside of the city limits and we had woods on 2 sides of our house. We had just moved to this house and Lobie came out of the woods. She was so skinny you could see her ribs. The hair on her back was stiff and prickly and she looked pretty scared. She came up to my husband, John and me with her head down and her tail between her legs.

There was not a leash ordinance in our area so the neighbor's dogs ran free and their owners kept their food bowls outside. Well, the chidren were all afraid of Lobie because they thought she was a coyote. The neighbors didn't like her because she was eating their dog's food. So the sheriff was looking for Lobie. We noticed that every time the sheriff came around, Lobie disappeared into the woods. We thought she was a pretty smart dog.

Well, every time she came out of the woods she would come visit us. We felt really sorry for her but we were not looking for a dog, although we didn't have one. We were getting ready to go on vacation for about 2 weeks and thought this was not the best time to adopt her, but we were growing kind of attached to her. We bought a big bag of dog food and asked our neighbor down the road to feed her while we were gone and if she was still there when we got back we were going to adopt her. Oh yes, she was going to have puppies.

Well, the sheriff decided to leave her alone until her puppies came. When we got back from vacation, she came out from under the neighbor's deck (the one who was feeding her) she herded her 5 puppies to our house and under our back porch. So we named her Lobie-short for lobo (because she looks like a coyote or wolf) except for her round eyes. She has been with us now for 10 years. She is the sweetest dog I have ever known. We gave the puppies away. We think she understands what we say and sometimes it seems she understands what we think.
Posted by Carol, from Jan

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Where does evil come from and does everyone have some in them?

Working in the medical department in a correctional facility for over 8 years, I have come in contact with people who have committed terrible crimes. When I worked at the state prison, it was a moderate/minimal security facility. The crimes committed by those at that facility didn't usually include murder.

When I was offered the job working at our local jail I realized I would be working with people with very serious crimes including first degree murder. They would be housed in our jail waiting for trial and those trials can take many years to adjudicate.

Not always but most of the time, I am aware of what the inmate I am treating is in jail for. I feel I need to know. It is a valuable part of my total assessment of my patient. I do recognize that until they are convicted, they are innocent until proven guilty. Even then their innocence/guilt may be only as valid as the competence of their attorney. Having that information, I do not let it influence how I treat the inmate. I treat them as a fellow human being and give the best of what I have to offer.

Some of the crimes alleged of some of the inmates I treat are very gruesome. What is interesting is that I don't usually see the evil that must have been present at the time the crime was committed. Most seem just like you or me. I may see a little evil here and again but it is not usually in those who have been charged with horrible crimes.

It all makes me wonder if maybe all of us have some evil in us but most of us can keep it in check. Desperation, drugs or mental illness may be what opens the door. My job in corrections gives me lots to ponder about. I have thought of so many research projects that need to be done. Some I wish I could even participate in but I already have my hands full.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Charlotte Builds a Web

As it happens, Charlotte, my nightly spider-visitor about whom I've been commenting here on Carol's blog is a Barn Spider. She is, in fact, the very spider made famous in the children's book by American writer E. B. White. You can read more about the real-life Charlotte on wiki. I've been observing Charlotte behaving just as documented in the wiki article. Except for one thing: she didn't read the part about taking her spiderweb down every night. This morning she crept away and left it in place. As I write, tonight's hunting has begun, and she saved herself some extra work.

Baby girl went to bed with her owl.

Couldn't resist putting this one in. I don't give a hoot, cuz her's so coot.
Lil Maggie gets very few toys because Cesar, the dog whisperer. says that too many toys causes anxiety in your dog. My sister's dog, Pedi, has a truck load of toys and that dog is so anxious that that most of the family is still carrying the mental scars from some of his displays. Whew!
I need to share a page from the journal I kept when mom was dying and we were all staying in the same house with our respective pups. That experience made "One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest" seems like a day at the park.
Well, last week, while shopping at my favorite, just around the corner Wally World store, I passed this little owl, it said, "take me home." Actually it hoots, but it's little hooter broke shortly after I got it home, which was a blessing. Another problem I have with dog toys is that they all say, "made in China". I'm a little nervous about that "made in China" stuff for dogs and children. I just don't trust it anymore since the dog food ingredients that came from China killed so many dogs and cats. Why can't someone here in America start a dog toy business. Just go to your favorite dog store and try to find a doggie toy that says, made in the USA.
Since the dog food scare, I have even been cooking the Magster her own dog food. I can't afford to lose my best friend because a best friend is not easy to come by. Even if I'm too tired to cook something for myself, I find the energy to cook her up something. I only have to do it about twice a week because she is cool with leftovers in between.
I am sure that there are some commercially prepared dog foods that are probably safe and maybe even safer than what we eat but who knows? I test Maggie's food first. If it doesn't kill me then it's good enough for her.
If you decide to cook your own dog food make sure not to include things that have been determined to be dangerous to dogs, ie onions, grapes, raisins, and chocolate. There is a more inclusive list available on Wikipedia.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

ok im in now, it would not let me, for a while

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Wish you were here!

What a wonderful day. We got off about 7:30 this morning. The boat cranked right up but as soon as I gave it a little throttle, it died. We were drifting down the river, dead in the water. Normally this would be the time when I would get really nervous but I had a feeling everything would turn out fine. I worked with the motor for a while and finally got it running again. Must have had some moisture in the line. That's what I get for not running it for several weeks.

As soon as we were up and running again we headed for a few places I wanted to try out. I don't have any recent experience with white perch fishing so today was just going to be a learning day. If we didn't catch any fish it wouldn't be a total waste because it was an absolutely gorgeous day. Even had to start out with a light jacket and that is rare here in early September.

Susan, my fishing partner, is from Long Island, New York. She is one of the nurses who works at the jail. She hasn't done much fishing but she loves it. It was even her idea that I take off today so we could go.
We tried a few spots that I thought might be good and had no luck. About an hour after we were out, my river rat neighbor called to check on us because he heard from one of our other neighbors that I was having some problems with the motor. I told him everything was OK. He told us a friend of his was catching white perch right across the river from my camp but had to leave because he ran out of minnows. We headed back toward that area.

We fished for several hours in that little honey hole and pulled in quite a few. Since I haven't fished for white perch in years, I forgot how tricky they are to catch. The bobber would barely move and there would be a fish on the line. And you have to pull it in quick before it got away. We lost more than we caught. All in all we had a pretty good day but I need another day off tomorrow to rest up from it.
Susan took the fish home for her husband to clean. That makes it a perfect day.

Gone fishing.....

I thought before I go I needed to maybe explain some of the code language we are using here. You know, like "snipe hunting." We don't want our new peeps here to be we may seem to be at times.

I don't know if a snipe is a real bird, you'll have to ask Ivy but if you were lucky, when you were a kid, you might have gotten the opportunity to do a little snipe hunting. It's more likely if you were in Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts or Camp Fire girls or some other organization that gave your parents the option of getting rid of you for a little time in the summer. Maybe you just had a nice relative that would take you off for a while.

I was in Camp Fire girls. And we did some snipe hunting and I got the privilege of getting to be the lead hunter. Now this is how it goes. Ya wait until dark. You get a big brown paper bag, put some pickle relish in the bottom of the bag. The lead hunter gets to hold the bag, in the middle of the dark woods, all alone, while all the others circle the area banging sticks together. The purpose is the scare the snipe into your pickle relish baited bag. Yeh, right!

Ya know at age 10, I wasn't born yesterday. The entire thing sounded screwy to me, but what the heck, so did Santa Claus, the Easter bunny and a lot of the stuff I heard in church. There's a lot of stuff that kids are asked to believe that just doesn't make sense. No wonder we grow up not trusting anybody. And I don't trust very many.

Well, while holding that bag in the dark woods, it didn't take me long to notice that people were disappearing and heading somewhere else. I think I got back to camp before most of the rest of them did. You can't fool this idiot, at least not for too long.

And now for how snipe hunting applies to blogs. Well every now and then a blog puts up a "new thread", or "new post". Snipe hunting is when you are still gabbing, in the comment section, on one post and no one is gabbing back and you find out they all left to go to the next post and didn't tell you. You can just about hear them all laughing at you.

Well now off the finish loading up.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Preparing for tomorrows fishing trip.

Going fishing ain't just grabbing your pole and jumping in the boat. It takes a lot of preparation, sometimes so much that you don't have the energy to actually do the fishing when your done.

I made my list, checked it twice. Cleaned out the boat, charged up the battery, filled the gas tank, restrung all the reels, replaced the rusty hooks, and fixed up some jug lines to drop off. This is the part where a good man would come in handy. Don't have one so I'm stuck doing it myself.

I've got so much stuff to put in the boat that I'm not sure if there will be room for my fishing partner and me. She's a green horn so I'll probably even have to bait her hooks. After she catches her first fish, she's on her own.

The detergent jugs are used to make the jug lines. This time I will try not to put one of those gnarly hooks thru a finger. I haven't set those jugs out since my unfortunate accident.

Oh, the last picture is Joey, the river rat who rode his houseboat through Rita. He must be taking his bed and breakfast guests on a swamp tour. I'll try and get a close shot next time.