Why must I do this to myself?

Waking at 7am sharp, we are going fishing. Making coffee and setting up my gear, tennis shoes on and I am wearing a jacket, its 49 degrees (9.4 C) outside, no t-shirt weather this time. Waiting for my father to open the garage, this is my Q it is time to go, but he hasn’t opened it yet hmm hope he didn’t sleep in I will be pissed. It is ten after eight and low and behold he is calling, yelling where the hell are you?
Uh waiting for the door to open, he was in the garage with the door closed. So first thing he starts with is my pony tail and something about fishing, I ignored him. We then have to pick up his friend, Bill, he is going too.


*Now let me explain Bill, a skinny Santa Clause, hunched over and just as old, he is around 78 and hard of hearing. My father is 75 and with partial hearing. With that out of the way….

Now the ride there takes about an hour, we have to take the older single lane highways to get there, and if my Dad is driving it will take 3 hours and handicap people are flicking him off. So listening to these two old guys in the van, now they are 2 feet from each other and yelling to each other cause they can’t hear, I jumped the first time my dad repeat himself it was so load, thought I hit something. So they are having a shouting match and each say huh? Damn what a crazy why to talk.


My dad is a side seat driver, he will tell you how fast to go and when to apply the brakes, and if he thinks you are wrong he will shout it out, where I am lucky I am wearing a seat belt or I would be walking home tonight or wake up in the hospital from landing on the street on my head.

So nothing eventful other than them two talking, stopping at a gas station, I need to get a soda because they brought lunches with soda of their own. So I made sure they used the bathroom before we got back on the road, no one has DEPENDS and I for one am not changing old man drawls.


Finally arriving to the farm, yes it’s a private lake and it is quiet here except for the buzzing of a bug or two. Grabbing my poles and tackle box which looks like a cosmetics case (laughs) off I disappear.
The third cast I get a fish, then another after that, ok this is fishing. Bill is trying his hand and he is catching fish too.

After about 30 minutes my father shows up, he is on the other side of the lake, he starts catching fish but the kicker here is he is done after 6 fish, he wants to go home…

No way am I leaving, this is what I have been wanting and no grumpy old man will take that from me besides I have the keys.

Standing on the bank I cast off and there is mud under my feet, slippery mud, as I back up my feet start sliding forward and I am running in place trying to stay out of the water, the faster I run the worse it gets, I am running backwards now so I drop my butt in the weeds, whew. Shaking and upset because Walter Matthau tried to get me to leave early, and I almost slid in the water.

Getting my footing I get away from the mud and sit down on the grass by the bank, the sun is out now, strip off my jacket and fish some more. Sitting there in tranquil peace and quiet is like heaven, the only sound I hear is the bass spawning and an occasional bug flying by.

My dad is fishing again bitching because Bill and I don’t wish to leave yet, its noon. Sitting there fishing I look down because something caught my eye, its moving up my pant leg, damn it’s a spider and its big enough to ride, where and the heck did it come from I am rolling on the ground trying to get it off of me. I turn into a three year old screaming get it off, get it off. Have you ever walked into a spiders web in the backyard, well I have, and I would start flapping my arms back and forth to make sure no spider is attached.

After crushing that nasty thing, I check the rest of me, this could have made me soil myself. I will stand now thank you very much, no more surprises. Well I look and we have 31 fish, time to go as I am getting aggravated that he wants to go home, so we pack the van, stop to pick up my dad’s jacket and fishing pole, get fresh water for the fish and my father disappeared. What now, hurry us up to leave and he gets the notion to wander off.

Bill then asks me where my dad is, I look in my pockets, heck I don’t know so I go to the farmer’s house and he is on a bench talking to the farmer and his wife.

OMG, he was in a hurry to go home, well we were there for another hour and a half, I took a nap in the van. Finally we get on the road and he starts driving in the side seat again, watch the fish in the buckets, watch what?

I am driving.


*There was this one trip last year, we caught a huge bucket of fish and it was filled with water with a towel over it to prevent from splashing in his van. Well I was driving the van when some guy in front of us (3 car lengths ahead) my father yells out ‘Watch It’ and my first reaction was slam on the brakes, well that bucket of fish spilled into the van. Opening the doors it looks like Niagara Falls, water was everywhere. Pulling over to see the mess and pick up the fish, I was shaking from the “Watch it” luckily I didn’t soil myself. The van was flooded, and oh my god it smelled like fish before we reached home. I thought my dabbing up the water helped; it took fans round the clock, a wet vacuum and a new rug to get rid of that water and smell.

Here I am talking to a man that cannot remember what he had for dinner yet he is reminding me of the incident of the fish spilling in the van.
Well we got home in one piece I am frazzled with his side seat driving, need to drop Bill off then Bill takes the most fish better for him no fish cleaning for me. I’ll catch them but not clean them.

Why do I do this to myself?

Fishing trip from Hell

Setting my alarm for 7am, my father and I are going fishing. Now it has been some time since we did that together and I am really looking forward to it. Grabbing two poles and my miniature tackle box (cute little thing) and setting them on my deck, it is too early to pack the van. So I make a pot of coffee and wait for my dad to open his garage, I can see from my kitchen.

Let me explain something before I get started, my dad is 76 years old, moves very slow and I worry that if he falls he will break something. Now that out of the way I will continue.

I see he is in there, so off I go with my tackle only to be told to bring just one pole, ok I can live with that. Loading the van was easy for him, he directed me on putting the boat battery in and the electric motor he already has his gear in the van. Looking at his cooler I see he has a sandwich and two pops, nothing for me, so I grab a bottle of water.

Off we go, but not to the lake, he has me drive to some guys house to purchase a boat trailer. Now if you know my father and his family, there is no way to buy something and leave right away. Oh no, as soon as he gets out of the van he shakes hands with the guy and (like his stomach has a magnet inside) leans on the boat that is on the trailer like it was the back of a pickup truck, where he will be for about an hour BSing about nothing at all as the fish are getting full from the morning insects.

My dad buys the trailer but doesn’t want the boat, ok now what, well we have to figure out how to get rid of this fiberglass tri hull and quick, fishing is almost over. Strapping a tow strap to the boat and the guy’s van he yanks it off the trailer also drags his jeep along with it, it was too funny. Now we are on our way, yay.
That took 2 ½ hours of socializing.

Getting to the lake which I have yet to catch one fish here but others have or the fish stories are too great and don’t wish to be left out I am willing to give it a shot. Putting the van off to the side with the trailer, putting a plug in the boat and I noticed it is bring on water, damn. So getting a new plug I attempt to test this again, great no water. First the motor and then the heavy ass battery into the back of the boat, tripping over seats and the boat listing back and forth, finally settled in the boat to hook everything up and he has over tighten the positive hand tightener, so I send him to get a pair of channel locks in the van before he gets to the van I finally loosen it up and break my thumb nail and this upsets me.

I had did my nails last night to prevent something like this to happen, damn. He hands me a rope to use to tie the boat to the pier. Looking around, I ask my dad for the oars? What oars, I left them at home. What? What if the motor dies out what then? The battery is fully charged, who needs oars?

Well I go looking for oars there are a dozen boats here, and find a paddle, hey it will work to push us off sand bars without getting my feet wet. Not his feet, I am doing all the work.
Getting the boat in the water it is leaking from the top, but the angle it is on is making it take on water, so I readjust it so it is level with the water and it stops taking on water. Now it is in the water and I drive it to the pier so my dad can get in, but wait it is taking on water again, damn. So I drag this heavy ass boat on the pier to inspect the hull, low and behold there is a ton of paint covering up a crack. So cleaning the area with a razor blade and a grill cooker wire brush (oh by the way he left the tools at home with the oars) and a pair of needle nose pliers. I am a network engineer now a ship builder. Cleaning up the area, there is a crack in the hull, so he comes up with this epoxy to fill the crack which works out good. Putting the boat back in the water and climbing in, the damn hull is leaking again, now what?

So out of the boat again, pulling it back on the pier and right above that crack that we patched is another one, I reach down under the boat and I find a huge crack in the hull, this is from dragging it onto rock shores. He has me clean this area and plugs up that hole. Now the boat isn’t taking on water. He wants to go home, wait, why would I want to go home after all this with that heavy battery attaching the motor, repairing the hull and breaking a thumb nail? So I have him get into the boat, and we are off. The wind is to our back, so he gets a worm and puts it on his hook which he casts out, me on the other hand is using fake minnows with no luck at all but I would rather have a bad day at fishing than sit at home watching a computer screen.

Noticing that we are drifting off course, I keep reminding my dad to turn left or turn right, then he catches a rainbow trout, the damn thing is huge, and it is dragging us whichever way he wants, now my dad is only worried about this fish and not paying attention to the boat which is steering itself, thank god I have that paddle I found. He is wrestling with that fish and it got too close to the prop and I heard a “tink”, he lost that big fish, aww too bad. The look of disappointment on his face is priceless and I do feel bad but what do you want me to jump in after him…NOT. So off we go with the wind hitting us in the face, we are headed towards the pier, but wait, you’ll love this, we are losing power quickly. Apparently the battery didn’t get a full charge and we are in the middle of this lake, the water is like 40 degrees and there is no freaking way I am jumping it to drag his old ass to the bank where ever it is. He is upset because we went fishing? Now why would you say take your pole and tackle box if we aren’t going fishing?
Mind you I have one paddle and the boat is 16 foot long, I start paddling one way then the next, it takes me 45 minutes to get to shore, I am dying of thirst yet I can’t drink the water.

As soon as I get to the bank ready to jump out with the rope my father tries the motor again in reverse, WTF, I am so upset now I want to cry. Another 20 minutes I am back at the shore where I was before.

Goose poop everywhere and I am slipping in it, and the mud I am sinking, come on why me?

So I drag him, the boat, and all the equipment on the bank. He is still pissed about his fish and I ignore him, taking everything out of the boat to drag it more up the bank. Mind you, he hasn’t helped, he is too upset about the fish, he has left it up to me.

I break another nail, index nail now, damn if only he knew how upsetting this is.

I must walk back and get the van to move the boat back to where we started from, so I instruct him to stay and I will return. Now I am parched, my water bottle is empty I will need to stop somewhere for a drink. Walking to the van which is a ¼ mile down the road, jump in and proceed to my father and his stupid broken boat and crappy motor. Backing that trailer up on a downhill incline is a pain in the butt, and with a supervisor telling me how to do it like he is in the seat driving, it is and always will remind me of driving Mrs. Daisy somewhere. Finally getting the trailer in a safe location to get the boat up on the trailer, I am exhausted at this point and he has me trying to lift this crappy boat on the trailer by myself. I refused, told him to lift as I did and finally get it on the trailer. At this point if he fell in the water, I would have to laugh but I know I would be the one who would have to save him and not stop hearing about it for the rest of his life.
Dragging that boat back to its original location only to set it back on the bank is bad enough, but I am the one doing the dragging here.

Break nail number three, am so thirsty I could drink pee and I am exhausted. I am thankful this fishing trip is over and we are on our way home. As we pull into the alley behind his house, he has the nerve to tell me to get up the next day and scrape the rust off his new trailer, he is lucky I don’t drag it to the river and push it in, I am too tired.

Later that night

As I recover from a hot shower, hair wet and snoozing I get a call, it’s my father asking where the rope is, what rope? He said you were supposed to take it off the boat, like hell I was, I was dragging that boat all over the place and doing all the back breaking duties while you stood around smoking and giving orders.


Oh by the way, no more fishing trips and why don’t you go to the hardware store they sell rope.

Pulling the wool

Last night I sat around trying to come up with the best April fools joke I could come up with and it hit me, I decided to post a shaved head on face book and let it ride. I did not think of the responses that I would have received but it was overwhelming, so overwhelming that I had to admit it was a joke before the day went on. One of my best features beside my smile, is my long luxurious hair and for me to cut that I would probably die.
I never knew how people know me like they do, one woman figured me out before anyone else that is why I admitted it was a prank. So sorry Véronique and Alan.

My straight friends also commented on my hair as they too seen the posting on FB which they too were quite in shock that I could just shave my head. If I had to cut it I would but to more of a feminine cut, I need bangs for that. I do love my long hair more so than short, it just makes me feel pretty.
I take great lengths taking care of my hair, and I am so thankful I didn't get my fathers genes or I would be getting many plugs or various amounts of wigs.

So I want to say sorry for the scare my friends, and say not to worry these locks are staying with me for a very long time.

I (evil grin)meant to pull the wool over your eyes {laughing}