I’m not one not be afraid of omens. But.
Stopped in Gonzales for good “migas” as a breakfast item. Waitress – a Leo – spilled ice water all over me. Or, all over my lap, as I was sitting, and it didn’t get the t-shirt, just the front of my shorts. Ice water. No harm, no foul.
Then, reeling with Ron, another birthday date (to myself), coming back in on Sunday, big waves. Great trip, hit the tides right, hit the hotspots right, the catch for the day was two rat Reds, two Hard Heads, at least a half-dozen stingrays, pin perch big enough to fillet, and snapper. Snapper keepers. The boat ride back to the dock, though? Just as we turned around to head in, we were quartered by a big wave.
Soaked me, from the waist down.
I’m getting a little scared. Ron kept telling me he wanted to get me out wade fishing, too. Is this a hint?
Cherchez les poissons:
Just some birthday fish, off the pier at the motel.
Birthday wishes:
|> On Nov 28, 2005, at 7:24 PM, Stephanie Stone wrote:
|> ~Stephanie, who is now off to say hello to the 12442
|> other Nov 28 birthday boys she knows.
More birthday wishes:
I just got off the phone with my sister, the usual happy birthday greetings from Gemini – land. She was all a twitter, worried about what had happened on the boat.
The details, back story, the material I usually don’t print? Not unlike any other family, I just assume that my family, especially my branch of the family tree, is a little more whacked out than most. Be that as it may, I’m determined to live what’s left of my life with as few regrets as possible. Like, I’ve been trying to figure a way to go fishing with my father.
So what I did was book a boat ride with a guide for last Friday. Skip the shopping histrionics, and get out on the water. The bay, the Texas Coastal Bend, whatever nomenclature appeals, just call it that. I like the places because even the corner convenience stores carry certain fishing tackle. Besides, my buddy once happened upon this one fishing guide who is really worth his weight in gold (or silver) spoons (fishing lures).
When he was very young, my father suffered through a bout with polio that left one leg shorter, and in general left him little weaker and as he’s aged, the post-polio syndrome has caught up. Perhaps it’s a genetic trait, but he’s a stubborn guy at times, and he refuses to get in wheelchair, except on rare occasions. He does fatigue a little easier than a “normal” person, but at his age? I figure it’s allowed.
So we set off on on an adventure Friday morning. Boat picked us up at the dock, and we had ourselves a grand morning of it, fishing and telling stories. I’d bait his hook, he’d sit there, then I’d toss his line out, then he’d reel it back in. Got a couple of pictures of him with a red fish, as I’ve noted, we spotted some Sandhill Cranes, saw a Whopping Crane, dolphins by the dozens, and fishing. Plus a big Red for Pa Wetzel. Biggest fish of the day. Hit not twenty feet from in front of where he was sitting, while he was casually reeling in a line with a little shrimp on it.
Bragging rights, “Oldest man in the boat gets the biggest fish.”
For a birthday wish? Couldn’t have asked for anything better.
Nice picture of the boat leaving the dock.
