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Current Article
Best Outdoors Songs
by Galen Sonntag
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Past Articles
The Man Challenges
by Galen Sonntag
Outdoors Sounds
by
Galen Sonntag
German Dog Trials
by
Galen Sonntag
Trial
and Error
by
Galen Sonntag
Deer
Hunting Tips
by
Luke Harris
Opening Day
by Butch Demer
Fly
Fishing for Pike
by Galen Sonntag
Bow
River Trout
by Galen Sonntag
Ice
Fishing Tips
by Galen Sonntag
Short
Casts
by Galen Sonntag
Keep
A Journal
by Galen Sonntag
Jig
or Troll
by
Daniel Kiazyk
Fishing
With Children
by
Butch Demer
The
Guy Trip
by
Butch Demer
A
Hole With a View
by Galen Sonntag
Sunset Trout
by Galen Sonntag
Don't Leave Your
Flies on the Table
by Galen Sonntag
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Gear Shop SpecialMake Your Own Wooden Top Water Lures
Don't Leave Your Flies on the Table.
by Galen Sonntag
My house is quite often a hurricane of activity.
My kids, ages 7, 5, and 2 have boundless energy and are involved in any
sporting activity that includes a ball, a club, a stick, or a puck.
That means I'm often rushing from one floor of the house to another to
be the intervening referee, sometimes the goalie, sometimes the pitcher,
many time the retriever or objects thrown, batted, shot or kicked too high.
The point is, I rarely have more then 5 minutes of time in a row to spend
on any activity until after the kids go to bed. Nonetheless, one
day this spring, I was getting organized for a week long get away.
My various rods, normally stored in my gun cabinet
to keep the kids from tangling all the lines together, were in the living
room. My tackle box was sitting on my desk. My fly boxes, 3
of them, were in the living room, kitchen, and bathroom. I was testing
the sinking rate of some of the flies in a tub full of water in the bathroom
when I was summoned to solve a "who hit who back first" argument in the
toy room. At the same time, my wife was busy cleaning the living
room for some company coming that night, and swearing at me for leaving
my rods all over the floor.
After getting the hockey game back on track, I decided
to sort through some of my dry flies in the kitchen. I pushed the
rest of the stuff on the table aside to make room for the flies and began
to remove them from the fly box one by one. I organized them by size
and colour, knowing full well after the first full day of fishing my box
would be in complete disarray again. With about 10 flies out of the
box, a crash was heard from the downstairs toy room. I arrived moments
later to discover a broken light fixture but no broken kids. No opportunity
to try out alternative uses of head cement today! Shop Vac to the
rescue and the game was back on.
I started back upstairs, but remembered the sink
rate experiment going on in the bathroom and resumed that activity for
another 5 minutes before I had to rush to referee the next dispute.
I finally returned to my fly sorting about a 1/2 hour after I had left
it, to discover all my dry boatsmen were gone from the neat row I had placed
them in. I also noticed the supper dishes had been removed from the
table and the dishwasher was running. I quickly surmised that my
wife
had whirl winded her way through the kitchen on a cleaning spree, and swept
the table free of debris. "Wife!", I called out. "Did you clean
up in the kitchen, 'cause I was just about to?" Her reply was "Yes.
I don't have time for you to get to it." "Where did you sweep the
stuff from the table?", I inquired. "Into the empty corn flakes box
by the back door. Why?", came her puzzled reply. "Because you just swept
$20 worth of my flies into the trash.", I answered. "I thought they
were crumbs from the kid's plates.", was her guilty reply.
I dumped the flies out, back onto the table, along
with a few crumbs the kids had left, and continued my sorting and replacing
back into the fly box from which they came.
Other places not to leave your flies (and you can
imagine why):
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