Fishing for compliments

One of the "sporty" activities I used to do BD (Before Disability) was fishing. Oh, I was good too. I could fly cast, knew what bait to use, and had no qualms about worms and stuff (in case you haven't noticed yet, I ain't no girly-girl).

DD (During Disability... not counting on an "AD" unless stem-cell research gets going for real), I've only tried fishing a couple of times. But that was when we were living in Vermont and I was physically doing much better. I went bass fishing once with my brother on a small rented boat, took my mom on a charter boat to fish for land-locked salmon (can you say The Perfect Storm? ...more on that below), and went fly-fishing once.

The fly-fishing was a bust. I caught a very, very... very small trout. The size of my fly. Didn't know I had hooked a fish until I went to cast again and there he was. Good eatin', NOT.

The salmon fishing was also a bust. In fact, we almost died. Apparently, there are terrific weather phenomenons that occur in the middle of Lake Champlain that cause 6-foot swells. In a damn lake.

I knew we were in trouble when my mother, the consummate fisher-woman, went flying up in the air and landed on her ass. Then, and only then, she grabbed a life-vest and put it on. That was a bad sign. I spent that outing wondering if I could manage to swim to the nearest island.

Soon, I'll try fishing again here in TX. My new friend, Ruthann, has scoped out Lake Travis and found a really kewl spot that I can get to in my freakin' wheelchair. And there I can sit and fish.

I'll letcha know if I catch anything!


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