Special Weekend
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I went and did something I haven't done in more than 13 years this weekend.
It started off the way so many weekends at Fort Cobb Lake start off, with karaoke rocking the Crows Roost Bar on Friday night. Some time around 1:15 am, it came to a close and we loaded up our equipment and headed back to the trailer.
My wife and mother-in-law beat me home and had the frozen pizzas heating up in the oven and by the time I finished hauling all the equipment inside the trailer, they were piping hot and ready to devour. And devour I did, I don't even remember the pizza or that last beer I drank, as I woke up around 7:30 am, still groggy, but in definite need of coffee.
I got up and wandered around the house, turning on the coffee pot and straightening things from the night before. I knew I had a full day of yard work to look forward to, but was hoping for nice weather and to finish it early. I stepped outside with my first cup of coffee and made my way to the newest addition at our place. The dog run.
My buddy Bill and I finished the fencing last weekend to allow the dogs somewhere to roam outside of the porch and the trailer. All that is left is to add a doggie-door on the back side of the porch and it will be ready for their approval. Anyway, I headed out to the dog run to rake leaves and try and get it semi-presentable for our dogs to go about their business.
I sat my cofffee down, grabbed a rake and the skies opened up. We've received more than our fair share of rain lately, in fact, the last count I heard was 14 of the last 15 days, including several very hard, very long downpours. Lord knows we need the rain down there as the drought lasted nearly a full year, but enough is enough.
It finally subsided and I took care of bagging the leaves, mowing the grass, weedeating and general maintenance that comes with owning a lake place. It was now about 11:30 and I was happy to be finished with the "work."
The girls were packing up to head home as they had to attend a baby shower for a family friend and I was ready for nap, but it appeared that would have to wait. As I lay there on the couch daydreaming, I heard the door of the trailer swing open and in came my buddy Bill's dog, Storm. Right in my lap. Licking me all over.
Now, Storm is our hunting dog, so she and I have developed quite a relationship over the last two hunting seasons. She minds me almost as good as she minds Bill and Rhonda. If Booger turns into half the dog that Storm is, well, I'll have me a good little duck dog and a very good buddy, as well.
Anyway, Bill wanted to know if I was ready to go.
Let me preface this with a little post-dated information. I haven't fished since well before my Dad died. In fact, before he got sick, some 14 years ago now, was the last time I had been fishing. After they retired and moved back home, I would take a Friday off work on occasion and drive over there on Thursday night to get up and go fishing with them. I still remember that last trip like it was yesterday. We got into the catfish pretty good on that Friday morning at Fort Gibson Lake, over on the eastern side of the state.
Back in the early days, when I was growing up, my Dad and GrandDad and I fished all the time. There was hardly a weekend that went by where we didn't go fishing at some point. Even during winter, we would drive down to a heated dock at Lake Eufala and fish for crappie inside the marina.
Bill and I had talked about going fishing last year and we just never got around to it. Between prepping for the next hunting season and working around the trailer and riding jet ski's, etc. we let the summer slip away and I never wet a hook. We were determined not to let that happen this year and I had already bought my fishing license so I was ready to go when the time was right.
Saturday afternoon was that time.
Much like my first deer hunt, now 2-1/2 years ago reminded me of spending time with my Dad, sitting there on the bank of the lake with a couple of lines tossed out on bottom, waiting for a nibble reminded me of the past. I very much enjoyed that time on Saturday and we went again on Sunday for a few hours. I even managed to sneak in a call to my Momma from the lake while we were fishing and wished her a Happy Mother's Day.
I'm excited to say that it was sort of like riding a bike. I missed the first couple of bites I got on Saturday, but soon enough and all day Sunday, I was catching fish with regularity.
I didn't want that weekend to end, but, of course, it did and I'm back at work today. The emotions that I've started to feel as I've aged are none too comfortable and often times, I find myself keeping my mouth shut and my head down, trying hard to bottle it up. It only comes out later, when I have a chance to reflect, by myself, on the events that occurred. Again, it's hell getting old.
Until next time, I fold.
G
posted by GaryC @ 4:25 PM,
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