Summer is nearly gone. I had just spend the entirety of it working on this house, and hardly any time has been spent fishing. I’ve all but missed the smallmouth bass season. It seems like since I’ve started this whole house-buying process that steelhead season was drawing to a close. Now, it is almost upon me! Ugh.
The most “fishing” I have been able to do is practicing flycasting, which is a good thing. This was done a few times while living with the in-laws in a spacious backyard where I could turn over nearly the full length of my taper. Now the neighbor–whom I’ve never officially met, so he’s for all practical purposes, a stranger–would heckle me and say the bluegill/crappie, or whatever piddly fish he thought would generate a cute comment, were on the other side of the yard. I took practicing my craft seriously, so I just pretended to not hear him and not dignify his remark with a response. He took the point, but never to heart and would return shortly to heckling me some more on another day. What a butthole.
So we’re out of the in-laws’ house (yay) and I have clutter all over the place as we sort through where to put stuff again, hopefully for the last time. I have yet to get to my box containing my flies and waders. Once there, I will begin preparing for another cycle of steelhead fishing, which I am very much looking forward to. So after a quiet, yet busy summer of moving and dealing with life, the cycle begins yet again.