We’re here in Maine in a cottage on a beautiful lake. I haven’t fished in years, but I have all the gear and the pressure is on for
the hunter and forger to bring home a largemouth.
So, there I was on the dock. Casting, waiting, casting, waiting. Nothing.I’ve already hooked an Elm tree, and the other dock. Nothing edible. As I wait for my fishing rod to bend and to bring in the big one, I look down at the water surrounding my dock, only to see a half dozen of the biggest bass I have ever seen. It looked like you could scoop them up with a net. Ha ha. So I reel in and drop my tasty “dillie” (or worm) right on top of them. The bass just sit there and look at me, then look at the dillie, then look at me, then decide “No, I don’t think so,” and swim off.
Bass? You haven’t heard the last of me. It’s only Monday. Mock me if you will. There’s a sauté pan with your name on it. And a bottle of Mersault in the fridge. Game on.
Th world is waiting…and watching. No pressure.