When the house starts smelling like fish, I know summer has begun.
Well, I can tell summer has arrived because Mike’s friends are arriving with frequency at my house — and they all smell like fish, har har!
Of course, each of them has enough gear to open their own fly shop and they talk for hours about feathers and fur, but sometimes I think they are confused and we must be going hunting since that is the source of most feathers and fur. Then, however, those friends drag out waders, a fish net, boxes of flies, or something that screams “we are going fishing” and I just settle in — yawn, yawn — for the rest of their long boring fish tales.
OK, some of the wandering anglers actually catch fish when they get to the water and back up their boastful claims. Of course as everyone fishes, I am on the bank, in the river and all around trying to help and grab the fish. Everyone soon learns: it’s fight the fish and fight me to get the fish first.
Well, after many trips to the rivers and lakes, and days in and on the water, those friends continue to smell like fish. Ugh! Guess I will continue to hang out with them and go fishing until large dark birds circle overhead indicating something has died. Wait, if they do die, I have lots of fly fishing gear for sale. PM me, har har! —Cameron
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