I am actually quite pleasant...... until I’m awake. Really? Construction at 5:30 am? Nothin’ beats waking up to a backhoe when it’s not even daylight yet. It’s true; there are no laws in the forest.
Who’d thunk it? I told you I’d get back to you about my new hobby of fishing, right? As I mentioned in last month’s blog I used to fish on Whidbey Island in Washington State with my eccentric Uncle Chips. He made me fish. It’s not that I wanted to; he literally made me go with him. I said I was going to be the fisherwoman who would be unable to pass up promising, or even unpromising, water. My plan was to fish everywhere. Bird baths, fish cemetery ponds, decorative fountains, subdivision lakes, golf course ponds. I promised I would blog about my fishing exploits and might even post some photos.
I live real close to a private lake. You can’t fish there unless you own property in that area. Or at least that’s what ‘they’ say. When I took up this new hobby I distinctly said I was going to fish wherever I wanted to fish. Golf courses, fountains, etc. So I went to this lake, Truett Lake, the other day. So as to not incriminate myself, if I say “The other day” it can mean any time from yesterday to 364 days ago. It started out as a bad morning. The moment when you pour your Chai Tea Latte concentrate in a coffee cup, open the fridge, and realize there is no milk. I mean it just doesn’t get much worse than that. (Hello? Hello Neighbor to the west....“Got Milk”?) No milk for my Lucky Charms either. Oh well, threw some of those Lucky Charms into my pocket, grabbed my trusty pink fishing pole and my two buckets and off I went. There was a time that even imagining that a pink fishing rod would even exist was nearly impossible since fishing is a male dominating sport. Not only do I have my pink fishing pole, I’ve got matching accessories... pink tackle boxes, lures, even pink fishing line!
Pruett Lake? Truett Lake? What is it really called? Hell, it doesn’t matter to me, but if it matters to you it can be found at 40.4923782348633 and -121.8891601562500. It’s also called Woodridge Lake. Spent an hour or so there. Hell, why not? I was up ‘before’ the crack of dawn because of some backhoe driver who likes to work in the pitch dark when the rest of the damn forest is sleeping. There I was ~ fishing in a nice little secluded spot when I was approached by a local resident who lives on this lake, and owns the rights to this lake (Big Whoopee!). There I was with two buckets of fish sitting right next to me.
This person asked me "Do you have rights to catch those fish? Do you have a fishing license?"
(Dude, if it is on private property you don't need a license! A better question would be “Are you trespassing”? )
I politely replied to this person, "No, sir. These are my pet fish."
"Pet fish?!"
this fella replied.
"Yes, sir. Every morning I take my pet fish to this lake and let them swim around for a while. I whistle and they jump back into their buckets, and I take em home."
"That's a bunch of bullshit! Fish can't do that!"
I looked at this obviously agitated person and said,
"Here, I'll show you. My fish are highly trained."
"O.K. I've GOT to see this!"
I poured my fish into the lake and stood on the banks and waited. After several minutes, this fella looked at me and said, "Well?"
I responded back to him "Well, what?"
"When are you going to call them back?” he asked.
"Call who back?"
I asked.
"The FISH."
"What fish?"
I asked.
I start walking home with my two empty buckets and he’s yelling profanities at me. Whatever Dude. I had some quiet time at the private lake ~ it had been all worth it.
I figure the next time I go over to this private lake I’m going to just sit in a folding chair and catch those fish with pellet fish food. If any of the private lake owners happen by again, I’m just going to explain that I’m feeding my pet fish. Or better yet, I will say that I am ‘thinking’ of purchasing a house in the area but before I do I want to make sure there’s actually fish in this lake I will co-own.
My rules to fish anywhere and everywhere are fairly simple. I don't have to fish every day, but I have to fish somewhere that I can catch a fish. So no fishing in the bathtub or in a rain filled ditch. Sneaking over to a private lake is fun. I will admit though, live bait is sometimes the biggest fish I handle all day long - but hey, I’m fishing. I have found out, by accident mind you, that Lucky Charms cereal works really well ~ especially the marshmallow hearts and stars, and you can snack while you fish. Can’t beat that, can ya? My best tip and before you laugh, please try it... Gummy worms ... cut into 1/3rds. The cost of the bait for a bag 1.99-3.99. You can have a wonderful day on the water and you will catch fish.. .or at least eat the bait.
Next week-end I’m going to fish the water hazards on the golf courses. I have caught a thirteen pound bass from the golf course in .....oh no, can‘t divulge the name. I refuse to cough up a single golf course name, although I will offer this bit of advice: Don't piss off the golfers. You'll ruin it for all of us.
A few rules to follow: Just remember; when you go golf course fishing keep your mouth shut. Always practice catch-and-release. Well, if anyone is watching anyway. Ignore the posted NO FISHING signs. If you see those signs it’s fairly obvious that there ARE fish there! Fish until you're caught, apologize and then leave for good. In other words find a different golf course. Dress appropriately. Khakis and a obnoxious golf shirt will help you blend in. Or a Khaki shirt and obnoxious golf shorts. Doesn’t matter really as long as you wear at least one horrendous item of clothing. My bling adorned pink fishing pole gives me away, so I’m going to have to resort to fishing at night. Night fishing will work better for me anyway. When you partake in daytime golf course fishing, you have to learn ninja badassery because you do a lot of cart dodging and weed hunkering. Those damn golf carts will send you running for cover and most likely you get nailed by a sprinkler that you will fail to notice in time. I have heard some jumps and splashes that sounded like the biggest bass ever, but quickly found out it was one of the golfers who decided to relieve himself in the safety of the shaded area of the pond and then fell in.
There's no denying the thrill of sneaking onto a golf course to fish. Always glancing over your shoulder to the putting greens, wondering if that silver-haired golfer in the horrendous checkered pants and striped shirt will make a call to the sheriff. It’s the thrill I tell ya! The thrill. Not to mention the fact that the Sheriff’s in this particular County don’t respond to anything anyway so it’s a pretty safe bet it won’t matter if you get caught or not. But then again, who knows, maybe that silver-haired golfer in the horrendous checkered pants and striped shirt IS the Sheriff.
My Joke for the day:
A defense attorney in Marin County was cross-examining a Deputy Sheriff during a felony trial. It went like this:
Q. Deputy, did you see my client fleeing the scene?
A. No sir, but I subsequently observed a person matching the description of the offender running several blocks away.
Q. Deputy, who provided this description?
A. The Deputy who responded to the scene.
Q. A fellow Deputy provided the description of this so- called offender. Do you trust your fellow officers?
A. Yes sir, with my life.
Q. With your life? Let me ask you this then Deputy - do you have a locker room in the Sheriff’s Office - a room where you change your clothes in preparation for your daily duties?
A. Yes sir, we do.
Q. And do you have a locker in that room?
A. Yes sir, I do.
Q. And do you have a lock on your locker?
A. Yes sir.
Q. Now why is it, Deputy, if you trust your fellow officers with your life, that you find it necessary to lock your locker in a room you share with those same officers?
A. You see sir, we share the building with a court complex, and sometimes lawyers have been known to walk through that room.
With that, the Marin County courtroom erupted in laughter, and a prompt recess was called.
My thoughts for the day:
One body. One mind. That's what each of us gets to last a lifetime.
We live in the “WTF” generation. (W)ikipedia, (T)witter, (F)acebook.
Ever wonder why those two animals, the bull and the bear, were chosen to represent the stock market? My theory is because Wall Street will feed you all the bull you can bear.
My Advice for the day:
Party every day that begins with the letter T.
Tuesday and Thursday?
Nah, TODAY and TOMMOROW!
My BITCH for the day:
As I have said in a much earlier blog ~ all I want in this world is to have some one I can turn to and yell, “Avenge Me!!” if I’m dying or wrongly accused of a crime. Or any injustice for that matter.
Oh, and rocket shoes. Pretty pink rocket shoes. I have asked for pink rocket shoes ever since I have been 5. The Christmas tree has always been void of pink rocket shoes. I also asked for pink cowgirl boots one Christmas, but did I get them? NO! Was it because Santa could not find the matching pink pony that I also asked for? I’m losing faith in this fat guy named Santa. Yet......yes, once again I will be asking Santa for my pretty pink rocket shoes again this year. This is your last year to do right Santa. For the truly wronged, real satisfaction can only be found in one of two places: absolute forgiveness or mortal vindication .....seriously Dude, you don’t want to anger me!
My confession(s) for the day:
I just took a shower. Nobody and I mean nobody has any idea just how hard it was to sneak that thing out of Home Depot.
My plans for this weekend are so top secret even I don't know what they are.
You know when I use LOL or LMAO or ROFL I’m just sitting here with a straight face, right? It’s only when I use ROFLMFinnishAO that I am totally serious.
I am just making stuff up now.
Until next time.....remember......
If you didn’t get caught, did you really do it? If you didn’t post it to Facebook, did it really happen? Was any of this blog even factual?
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