fishing for words

(and tossing out random thoughts)


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a thought…

According to Mark Twain, in his essay “On the Decay of the Art of Lying:”

“Among other common lies, we have the silent lie — the deception which one conveys by simply keeping still and concealing the truth. Many obstinate truth-mongers indulge in this dissipation, imagining that if they speak no lie, they lie not at all.”

But what of the mistruths we take upon ourselves in interpersonal relationships, accepting a person’s omission as proof of our thoughts — subconscious, preconceived or otherwise?

A speaker intentionally lies by omission. “To lie” is an active verb that implies this intent. However, most dictionaries also offer a broader secondary definition similar to “to create a false or misleading impression,” which includes lies of omission.

But how often do we accept our own internal “proof by omission” when another doesn’t directly provide the information we expect or hope for? In accepting this omission as proof, could it be that we are lying to ourself? There is no denying that an omission of information may be intentional. Sadly, to regularly accept that such omissions are deliberate may have more to do with one’s predetermined and perhaps incorrect opinion, negating the idea that a truth can exist without being uttered.


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goodbye miss sierra

Miss SierraWednesday, April 4, 2007.

With great heartache and tears, our 11-year-old tortoise shell/calico cat, Sierra, shuffled out of this world at about 4:20 p.m. Supposedly more “my cat” — as much as any cat can be ascribed an owner — I think she was a somewhat unusual and endearing cat. Most of the cats I have had occasion to know followed the typical cat behavioral code that calls for independence verging on aloofness.

Sierra was different. She was motherly, even though she was never a mother herself. If you weren’t feeling well, she’d cuddle up with you, seemingly trying to cheer you up with her “atomic purr.” When I was first divorced and the boys weren’t with me, she was my tolerant and understanding companion. She’d put with the various dogs that came and went over time, and even after being playfully pounced on, Sierra would lay in the sun and lick their ears. (Nevada, our miniature schnauzer, attempted to “show her his tonsils”…picture that in your mind and you probably will understand.) Ironically, in her peaceful passing in my arms I felt some redemption from an awful memory of another pet’s passing. I will miss Sierra. I hope that I gave her reason to miss me.


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early pass opening?

Looks like it will be quite a different fishing season in the Eastern Sierra this summer and fall. According to California Department of Water Resources “the Sierra snowpack this spring is just 42 percent of normal, its lowest since 1990,” as reported on MammothLocal.com. Plowing for Tioga Pass will begin April 16 — a bit earlier than usual — and the pass could open two or more weeks earlier than “normal” (often around Memorial Day). While this will mean I should be able to get across Sonora Pass earlier this year, it may also mean that many of the smaller streams I like to fish will be only puddles by the end of August. Guess we can’t have it both ways…


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2007 Football Schdule

Sean will play in the All-Star Game on July 14th, 7:30 p.m. at the Napa Memorial Stadium…somewhere in the 1300-1500 block of Menlo Avenue, Napa.

And the Solano College schedule is out:

Sept. 1 / 1:00 pm: San Francisco @ Solano
Sept. 8 / 1:00 pm: Solano @ LMC (Pittsburg)
Sept. 22 / 6:00 pm: Solano @ Monterey
Sept. 29 / 1:00 pm: San Mateo @ Solano
Oct. 6 / 1:00 pm: Solano @ DeAnza (Cupertino)
Oct. 13 / 1:00 pm: Redwoods @ Solano
Oct. 20 / 1:00 pm: Yuba @ Solano
Oct. 27 / 1:00 pm: Solano @ Marin (Kentfield)
Nov. 3 / 1:00 pm: Contra Costa @ Solano
Nov. 10 / 1:00 pm: Solano @ Mendocino (Ukiah)


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Sean on the court

Sean played in the Seniors vs. Faculty basketball game last night.  He rattled off some post-game figures…something like six minutes of playing time, a number of steals and a respectable number of goals.  (Thank God he didn’t break anyone’s wrist! …but that’s another story.)  It was a fun game, with the staff taking the lead early and never relinquishing it.  I did a double-take, however, in the last quarter…the clock had ticked down to less than a few minutes…suddenly it was back at 6:00.  Gotta keep your eyes on those high school kids!  The faculty won, but it was all smiles afterwards. 

My apologies in advance for the quality of the photos below.  I had to use a “sport” setting, which combined with the fluorescent lighting, lead to some graininess.

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…simple thoughts…

With a recent turn of events, I’ve come to believe that it’s a lucky few of us who realize how good we have it and even fewer who truly know what we want. I would humbly submit that most people don’t know what we really want until we find out what we don’t want, or find ourselves in a situation that we truly don’t like. There seems to be a design behind the curveballs that life throws at us. In an odd way, we should be thankful for the problems we have now. They are there for a reason and are sometimes may be the best teacher.


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frustrating

Had I known that that the Presidents’ Day weekend would only offer an extra day for things to go haywire, I would made no plans at all. It began Friday. The plan was to head to the cabin for some respite and fishing, as well as skiing for my nephew.

First, my son, who had requested time off, was scheduled to work Sunday. But we could work around that and come home Sunday. Then, my sister calls to tell me that her younger son is too sick to join us. But that’s okay because her husband and older son can still make it. Friday morning, in no rush, Christopher and I hit the road about 11:00 a.m. We stopped for lunch, a visit to the Mother Lode Fly Fishing Shop and a supply of edibles.

About five minutes after five o’clock, we sauntered up to the cabin door to find a note from the friendly water department. Though faded from exposure to the elements, I quickly discerned that due to a leak at the “water source at the house” that the water had been turned off at the meter in January. Without the proper tool, we couldn’t turn the water on to determine how bad the leak was. Phone calls were made. Frustration mounted. Of course, municipal offices are closed by this time. Being a holiday weekend, it’s unlikely that any plumber will answer the phone this late in the day. In the end, we began the drive home about 40 minutes after we arrived in Twain Harte.

Saturday I awoke determined to follow through with one plan for the weekend — fishing. I threw the gear into the car, picked up Christopher and headed towards our one real trout creek, Putah Creek. We hit the creek and tried to make sense of this unfamiliar water. I don’t mind riffles and white water that prevents one from seeing below the surface — and call me spoiled — but I like my trout water to be clear. Crystal clear. Putah Creek is not. Sure, it was a great day, weather-wise, to be out, but four hours on the creek and nary a fish. And none sighted on the lines of the other dozen anglers milling about.

The score so far this year: Trout 1 – Pat 0. Frustrating.


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last “boys’ trip” for a while…?

With Sean graduating this year and Christopher closing in on his 18th birthday, I have a sneaking suspicion that our trip last December might be our last trip together, probably for a long while at least. College, jobs, friends and girlfriends loom on the horizon, and as we all know, they slowly begin to take priority — however slight — over the ol’ parents. It was a fast trip, with Sean and me sharing the driving, so we drove each way in a single day. It was great to see mom and dad as well as Mark and Kenna, and for the first time, nephews/cousins Kaden and Levi. It took a while for Kaden to warm up to these strangers who had invaded grandpa and oma’s house, but before we left he was having a blast knocking his dad and uncle Pat to the floor and seemed to really latch onto Sean, despite the fact that Sean is 10 times bigger than Kaden. We spent a lot of time visiting, along with the typical tourist jaunt to Seattle. (Thanks to Christopher for sharing pictures from his new camera!)


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…15½ hours later…

Sean, Chris and I are in Duvall, Washington, for the next few days. What a trip getting here! Chris and I departed home about 5:15 a.m., picking up Sean along the way. It was smooth sailing through most of California, but in Dunsmuir hit the weather I had worried about: snow. The rain had begun to show evidence of some mushy-ness a few miles earlier, but there was no evidence on outside of the impending storm. Slowly, it became obvious that snow had been falling for a while as drifts were piled on the side of the highway. Eventually I slowed to about 40 mph. With thoughts of putting on chains drifting through my head, we finally emerged from the fluffy stuff near Weed. We charge ahead, only to be slowed down near the Siskiyou pass, where angry clouds were spitting snow in our path into Oregon. With concentration and the awareness that at least three cars had slid off the road, I drove carefully and in constant fear of other drivers, including that of a tractor trailer rig, who flew past us in the slush. But we made it into Oregon without incident, and were rewarded with blue skies through much of the Beaver State. The remainder of our drive was relatively uneventful, save for the darkness that quickly descended at this higher latitude as we began to negotiate the sometimes narrow and often winding roads towards Duvall. But we made it, tired and a bit hungry, but happy to have made it.

P.S. We woke up this morning to a winter wonderland…perhaps 2½ to 3 inches of light snow.