Late one afternoon earlier this week, I was sitting in my chair doing something really important (like flicking lint off my sweatpants) when Tom walked into the room.
“Wanna do something?” he asked.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked cautiously. We’ve been married long enough to know that sometimes these invitations aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.
“Wanna go fishing with me?” he asked. I knew immediately that he had already checked with his usual fishing buddies and none of them could go fishing that evening. I am usually number five or six on his list of fishing partners, but I try not to take it personally.
“Um . . . sure,” I said, summoning up some enthusiasm.
Although I love to be out on the water in a boat, I wish I didn’t actually have to hold a fishing rod to earn the right to be there. I never catch anything except weeds. The biggest thrill I get is when I catch a particularly long lake-bottom hydrilla weed that fights me tooth and nail, all the way to the surface.
But fish? Naw . . . I never catch fish.
The best way to think about going fishing with Tom is to think of it as “date night.”
Tom drives and I ride . . .
“Wanna do something?” he asked.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked cautiously. We’ve been married long enough to know that sometimes these invitations aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.
“Wanna go fishing with me?” he asked. I knew immediately that he had already checked with his usual fishing buddies and none of them could go fishing that evening. I am usually number five or six on his list of fishing partners, but I try not to take it personally.
“Um . . . sure,” I said, summoning up some enthusiasm.
Although I love to be out on the water in a boat, I wish I didn’t actually have to hold a fishing rod to earn the right to be there. I never catch anything except weeds. The biggest thrill I get is when I catch a particularly long lake-bottom hydrilla weed that fights me tooth and nail, all the way to the surface.
But fish? Naw . . . I never catch fish.
The best way to think about going fishing with Tom is to think of it as “date night.”
Tom drives and I ride . . .
We see sailboats . . .
and kayaks and pontoons . . .
and jet skis and other fishing boats . . .
Tom catches a fish and throws it back. Too small.
And although I do not take a picture of it, I catch a really exceptional weed. I am tempted to keep it and fry it up for a vegetarian dinner entree, but I end up throwing it back, too. ‘Catch and release’ weed program through the DNR. I'm very conservation-y.Date night. Night crawlers and leeches. Minnows and Trilene fishing line. Sinkers and jigs. It’s what keeps our marriage fresh and exciting.
3 comments:
Great Fish/Weed Date night story, but I came right here this morning to see the RED HAT story. Grandma Nettie
Lovely "Explore Minnesota" pictures:) The weed "catch" would have been a hoot, but what about the "red hat"??
You always make me giggle. I have found, much to my surprise, that I love to fish. As long as someone else touches it : ) Dana
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