(Bet you thought my post today would be about Cardinals post-season baseball, didn't you? I'll be watching this afternoon, so if I don't reply for a few hours, I'm sure y'all will understand.)
My husband's family holds an annual fishin' derby on Columbus Day weekend. This will surprise anyone who knows me, as I'm not an outdoorsy type, but I was the first in my immediate family to win a trophy: Most Fish in the adult category. This was gratifying as we have hard-core fishers and some hard-core competitors in the family.
Both children have trophies in the kid's category. Now everyone but my husband, who taught us all to fish, has won. He claims it's because he's helping the kids with worms and taking our fish off the hooks, as well as visiting with relatives we only see once a year. (Hey, whatever gets him through the day, right? lol)
I'm reminded of when we got serious as a couple and I asked him to teach me to fish. As fishin' was his favorite summer activity, I felt I should be able to share the "sport" with him. I learned a lot about him and his patience and his teaching methods. (This held me in good stead when he later tried to teach me to drive a stick shift. Unsuccessfully, some might say, but we didn’t divorce and I didn’t kill him, so it wasn't a total failure.)
At first, I found fishin' exciting and challenging. It will surprise no one to hear I took a book along. lol He likes to walk around and cast; I like to watch a bobber. One memorable day, I grew frustrated by the cork repeatedly going under while I was reading. Bobber sinks, I sigh, reel in the fish, release it, rebait the hook, recast the line and return to my book. Not too long after, just as I'd get back in my cozy spot in the shade and re-immersed in the story, the bobber would sink again. They were nice bluegill, don't get me wrong. I even kept a few on the stringer. But...I was trying to read. So, with a glance to make certain I was undetected, I cast the line without a worm.
It was lovely and quiet. Every once in a while, my darling would call, "Need a worm?" and I'd call back, "No, I'm good." It took him several outings before he noticed the surplus of worms at the end of the day, and I was busted. I countered that I'd discovered a nice compromise where we both got to do what we wanted while spending the day together.
We continued to enjoy the outings, except for the sweating and sunburn I'd occasionally get, the nasty mosquitoes who love my sweet blood, and the day all the snakes in the lake swam around where I sat. Totally creeped me out. I didn't dare take my eyes off them to read, knowing they'd come ashore and slither up to me unawares. I wound up "fishin'" from the car. I was only reading anyway, not about to bring attention to myself by reeling anything in.
Ah, the things we do for love.
Any hobby you took on just because your honey liked it?
I'll check in later for comments, after the game. (Go, Cards!!)
Santa Dear, available now