George Johnson
Novice
Here's my weekend story...
I'm loaded to go out on my first solo fly fishing expedition (better known as sitting around the campfire eating hot dogs and having a beer)on Johnson Creek in Packwood, WA this last Saturday. It's been a long long time since I've had some time alone and now I've got a portable man-cave to drive around to find fishing holes. I was stoked and ready to go.
The last thing on the list, I throw the cooler in the back, slide it in place and I'm ready to roll. I look across the street and my lawyer neighbor pulls up in this 30 ft Toy Hauler. It is a beast and is making his poor Ford 3/4 ton work for all it is worth. I had to oblige him and take a tour. It was nice but the whole time I'm looking at this thing, I'm thinking, "I am so glad for my tear drop". It is so huge, I think the Ford got a hernia. I know I did just looking at it.
So the show was over and I run back into the house to give my sweetheart a kiss goodbye. Low and behold, she has her finger wrapped in a bloody towel. "Let me see your finger?", I asked. "NO! it will bleed more" she barked back. I had to get firm and demanded to see it so I could assess whether it warranted a band-aid or a trip to the hospital. She showed me, I commanded a nice "UGH!" and said "You're going to the hospital". She had sliced the finger next to her pinky between the knuckles and severed the tendon. She'll require surgery next week.
It might be a while before I get to test out my portable man-cave. I think my wife, although injured, is going to enjoy getting a break from the dishes, laundry and making dinner. She already has this funny smirk on her face. Even if it is from her pain meds, it appears more sinister and makes me nervous.
If you hear about a man who has been arrested for having an open pit fire, cooking hot dogs, burning paper plates and torching filthy kids clothes nightly within the city limits... well, let's just say, I have conceded that there is no way in the world I could ever do what my wife does on a daily basis. If it comes down to this, I would like to hear from you. Send all your travel post cards addressed to "Tear Drop Jorge, Yakima County Jail". It's not the man-cave I had in mind.
Accidents happen and I don't mind taking care of my wife but it really saddens me that dog gone fishing trip just wasn't meant to be.
I'm loaded to go out on my first solo fly fishing expedition (better known as sitting around the campfire eating hot dogs and having a beer)on Johnson Creek in Packwood, WA this last Saturday. It's been a long long time since I've had some time alone and now I've got a portable man-cave to drive around to find fishing holes. I was stoked and ready to go.
The last thing on the list, I throw the cooler in the back, slide it in place and I'm ready to roll. I look across the street and my lawyer neighbor pulls up in this 30 ft Toy Hauler. It is a beast and is making his poor Ford 3/4 ton work for all it is worth. I had to oblige him and take a tour. It was nice but the whole time I'm looking at this thing, I'm thinking, "I am so glad for my tear drop". It is so huge, I think the Ford got a hernia. I know I did just looking at it.
So the show was over and I run back into the house to give my sweetheart a kiss goodbye. Low and behold, she has her finger wrapped in a bloody towel. "Let me see your finger?", I asked. "NO! it will bleed more" she barked back. I had to get firm and demanded to see it so I could assess whether it warranted a band-aid or a trip to the hospital. She showed me, I commanded a nice "UGH!" and said "You're going to the hospital". She had sliced the finger next to her pinky between the knuckles and severed the tendon. She'll require surgery next week.
It might be a while before I get to test out my portable man-cave. I think my wife, although injured, is going to enjoy getting a break from the dishes, laundry and making dinner. She already has this funny smirk on her face. Even if it is from her pain meds, it appears more sinister and makes me nervous.
If you hear about a man who has been arrested for having an open pit fire, cooking hot dogs, burning paper plates and torching filthy kids clothes nightly within the city limits... well, let's just say, I have conceded that there is no way in the world I could ever do what my wife does on a daily basis. If it comes down to this, I would like to hear from you. Send all your travel post cards addressed to "Tear Drop Jorge, Yakima County Jail". It's not the man-cave I had in mind.
Accidents happen and I don't mind taking care of my wife but it really saddens me that dog gone fishing trip just wasn't meant to be.
