fishing for words

Can’t help but wonder if we aren’t living at the peak of canned culinary delights… Just as Mr. Chandler over at The Trout Underground unwrapped the delicious details of The German-Built Canned Cheeseburger, the local press shines the front page spotlight on The Amazing Organic Batter Blaster (found at sfgate.com). Consider it the next evolutionary step of a good ol’ camping standby: Bisquick Shake ‘n’ Pour.  What could be more convincing that an online video?

Quick vittles is one holy grail of those fisherpeople who stretch the legal limits of fishing to that hour before the sun officials shines on this Golden State. And what could be better and more ‘Merican than a quick batch of stick-to-your-ribs flapjacks?

Pass the syrup!

Maybe we’d better hope that the trout targeted this season don’t rise to the flies tied here at the House on the Hill. Already we’re beginning a battle the creeping curse that comes with fly tying.

You can start with the materials strewn about the dining room table: hooks, bobbins, black thread, tan thread, red thread, small scissors, medium scissors, hackle pliers, red chenille, black chenille, olive chienille, pheasant feathers, partridge feathers, brown dubbing, olive dubbing, black dubbing, black marabou (turkey underwear), thin silver wire, thin copper wire, small red wire, white antron, muskrat hide, green “Krystal” flash, gold tungsten beads, silver tungsten beads… Apparently this battle is bound to escalate.

 A fly tying station is already headed out this way via the seemingly unstoppable United Parcel Service. But already predicted is a need for drawers to comfortably contain a quantity of synthetic and animal natural materials.

The curse is not the cause of worry. The worry is that already I have pondered uses from the dog’s fur left behind after a good trimming. Heck, I’ve even considered brushing the house bunny…might make decent dubbing or even a hackle.

It’s not an obsession, it’s a hobby.

Global warming is upon us.

Snow becoming a regular and multi-day occurrence on the mountains within sight of the San Francisco Bay. The Arctic loosing ice cover, which in melting is decreasing the salinity of the far northern oceans. But doggone it, doesn’t seem like temperatures are rising. It’s darn cold out there this winter.

Want more proof?

For 23 days now long pants have covered my funky but functional legs during some part of the day. Shorts, long a mainstay of my wardrobe save for a handful of days during past year, finally have the opportunity to rest.

Let’s hope they still fit when winter ends in 50 days.