For the next couple of weeks I’m going to feel like a landlocked salmon: I’m ready to make the arduous trek upstream, but can’t seem to get out of the confines of social obligations. Seamus is feeling it too. This morning with cool air blowing in the bedroom through open windows, he tried to motivate me several times, each time I ignored him, trying to get a few more minutes of sleep. Finally, the smell of fresh ground coffee brewing got me on my feet.
Week after next, I’ll be northward bound and another dilemma will present itself: do we float for big browns or head for the woods in search of bonasa umbellus? I know what Seamus is hoping for. So, why not do both?
Sometimes I think life was simpler when I was still working fulltime. Back then, every weekend was planned out with one thing in mind. Not able to do it all … well, I could always blame it on the job. Now, it’s my own fault due to poor planning …and Seamus is too good a friend to hold a grudge. (Something he had to work at: Brittanies are notorious for getting their feelings hurt and taking their time about forgiving. We’ve been a team for so long, well, he bypasses the grudge stage and goes with what’s coming.)
I’ve missed one river cleanup and will miss another but I’ll be in town to make the Paint Creek Fly Festival in Rochester – though only for a few hours. Yep, another obligation.
By now some will have tears in their eyes as they ponder my plight. Cheer up, I’ll survive. But if you see me in the Rail Side Bar and Grill in Elmira, tired looking, wearing briar pants, a red shirt and a whistle on a lanyard around my neck, just buy me a drink. I’m just taking a break from trying to make up for lost time.