Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Still Better

Okay, so yesterday I got a wild hair and decided to head out for the lake.  Editing wasn't going well, pay-job stuff was done for the day, world events still sucked, why not escape a little, eh? 

It was gorgeous outside, so naturally I caught nothing.  I had the park pretty much to myself, though, which was awesome.  Gotta get park time in while I can because it closes for the season Thursday.  Bleh.

Anyway, while I was out there, I prepared for a long, hard cast with my favorite lure.  Imagine it was like me swinging for the cheap seats.  Except when I actually went to cast, the lure hooked my bag... My bag that easily weighed 8 pounds what with the full bottle of Powerade and two worm containers and everything else I carry...  And GURK. Pole went forward, line broke, and I stood there looking like Wile E. Coyote after he'd run full-on into a wall. 

Once I'd recovered from that jarring experience, I went through the process of re-rigging my pole.  First, I had to get the lure off the swivel so I could cut the swivel loose from the broken line.  Of course, the lure swung around and one of its hooks caught me in the tender space where my index finger meets my middle finger.  Swearing ensued. 

I unhooked myself from the lure, got it off the swivel, and cut the line off.  (Which I tucked into my bag, because I never leave loose line lying around.  Don't get me started on people who leave loose fishing line lying around.)  I re-rigged for worm and bobber, and cast out. 

The thing about casting is you hold the line with your index finger, right about at the crease for the first knuckle, until you're ready to let go and watch your rig fly.  And that first cast HURT like a sunuvagun.  I look at my finger and sure enough there's a red strip from one side of my finger to the other where the jarring cast had pulled the fishing line... the rather sharp, 10lb test fishing line... through.  Giving me the world's worst paper cut.

Ever prepared, I carry a first aid kit in my car.  But by then my car was a good few hundred yards away.  And it wasn't bleeding.  It was just making casting a bit difficult.  I fished for a while longer where I was - because I was sure fish were there and I'd walked all that way - and then slowly made my way back to the car, fishing along the way.  I got to the car and applied a band-aid from the never-before-used first aid kit. 

And the line kept catching on the band-aid when I went to cast.  I shrugged and kept on fishing, but I moved to a different spot on the lake. I did finally figure out how to cast with my bandaged finger, but still no luck. 

Eventually, I went home.  A little battered and totally fishless.

Still better than pretty much anything else I could've been doing for those two hours.  ;o)


  1. OUCH! Casting, like batting, is a fine art. Any little thing can throw it off. Really sorry no fish jumped on your line. But it was a gorgeous day yesterday. I kept wandering outside to scoop leaves out of the dog pools and bird bath. Not that I needed to scoop but because it was such a pretty day. Also, fall definitely fell. The back patio, driveway, and front walk are carpeted with leaves. Since tomorrow is Halloween, I suppose it's time for the yearly leaf invasion.

    I rewrote three lines yesterday on the RDR book. And I wrote 250 words on Sade's story. My gumption is nonexistent. That said, it's not even 8 am yet and I'm almost done with the morning routine. Except for blogs. Didn't blog yesterday. Didn't blog today. May not blog tomorrow, except I should be I have to write a snippet for the theme and that gives me incentive to write new words. Or not.

    Work. I'm off to do some. Take care of your finger. The fish are waiting...somewhere. ;)

  2. Hugs on your injury. May you never suffer anything worse!

    It was a lovely day here, too. I puttered around the yard for nearly an hour before I got too hot. :-)