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A Good Sunday — Fishing, Cutting Wood, & Watching Football October 24, 2010 As do a significant minority of people in the US, I went to church in the late morning, and, as is the case with many grown boys, my church of choice is the Uncongregational Church of Trout Fishing. Today I went to Fearing Pond in Myles Standish State Forest to find my mystical connection to the cosmos through a line of monofilament leading from my rod (Uh, nevermind the psychology behind that choice of word.) to the unknown, dark and weedy depths. 
Usually when I go fishing, the outing is a matter of at least six and as much as twelve hours, but today I wanted simply to catch a fish or two and then be on my way. The pond offered up a couple of trout. First came this trout of about eleven or twelve inches. My personal minimum is usually fourteen, so I turned it loose, and it swam away with vigor. 
Then came another rainbow of about the same size. I cut it loose, and it also skedaddled with alacrity. That was enough fishing today, because I had a little chore to do for someone not likely to be able to take care of it herself. The rains of last spring had softened the roots of a pine tree to the extent that the young, ostensibly healthy thing just fell over. 
I cleaned it up enough so that she could park her car and left the rest for another day. I wanted to see the New England Patriots play the San Diego Chargers, an usually very good team that is having a poor campaign this season. 
NFL football is almost the only television that I watch. Today the Pats prevailed, with more luck than superior play, by the slim margin of 23 to 20. Altogether, it was a mighty fine Sunday. |
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which is me, actually, and I am available.