LICENSE TO TRAVEL BACK IN TIME

I'm sure you all knew it was inevitable that eventually I would create an off-site post, not necessarily NCW and not necessarily about dahlias....remember, my blog includes the line "....and other growing things...." Well, believe it or not, there are other growing things in this world, besides dahlias - yes, there are!!!! Many of you know what a committed dahlia guy my dad was, but how many of you knew how important fishing was to him? If there was any thing else he would miss church for on a Sunday morning besides a dahlia show, it would have been to go fishing! He would fish for anything, but preferred to pull in rainbow trout, and especially steelhead, from the rivers around Skykomish, Snohomish and Monroe. I don't know how little I was when I saw my first pair of hip waders, but I can tell you, they were probably taller than I was! Then there were those hip waders what were actually more like rubber overalls, and they covered Dad's entire body up to his shoulders! As part of this exercise in providing sustenance for a family of ten, Dad also learned to tie some wicked flies, and caught some real beauties with the irresistible lures he could create. I loved watching Dad tie flies, and I also loved watching him create a fishing rod, tirelessly wrapping the nylon thread of many colors to secure the eyelets that ran from the top to the bottom of his poles, made of either bamboo or fiberglass. He had a lacquer that he would paint over the top of the tightly wound threads, and I think that the aroma of this lacquer would probably be illegal today, especially around young children. But I guess the worst damage it did to me was that it tattooed a love for handmade fishing poles into my temporal lobes, and the amygdala, that part of the brain that is responsible for emotional memory. I've been trying to locate any of the poles that Dad made, but with no success...I won't give up until I am sure there is no chance of getting ahold of one of his old poles. In the meantime, I will have to be happy with my occasional forays to Washington State Lakes, where, after who knows how many years, I'm finally fishing again. Some of my dearest memories were created at the crack of dawn, as Dad would rouse us before the sun was up, with hastily packed lunches of peanut butter sandwiches, apples and Koolaid, to get on the lake early enough to catch the fish "while they are biting." I don't know how often we kids "got lucky", but I guarantee you, Dad was always the "luckiest" guy on the lake, whether we were fishing off the dock, or in the middle in our little rowboat, or when he went steelheading with his best friends (he never took the girls steelheading, BTW....although I know my brothers got to go with him from time to time.) Anyway, for those of you who are wondering about my "new interest" in fishing - rest assured that as I get older, the important things from my childhood, especially as they relate to my beloved father, are things that ground me again. I've been at Williams Lake, near Cheney, WA, for the past two days, just camping out and fishing, walking, watching, taking pictures, not talking to a lot of people, rigging my line, cooking outdoors - and for the first time in a long time, have reconnected with this very wonderful part of my life. I highly recommend finding the place that gives you life and fun and warm feelings inside - and go for it....Life is too short to forget that we are human, with feelings and flaws, always growing, always connecting with what matters to us.....It doesn't even matter that I got skunked this weekend - my Dad caught his limit!