Right now I am unable to continue to get out fishing as my stroke continues to impact my balance and dizziness. So for now I am relegated to living in the past and rereading, rewriting, and making better sense of my past adventures for my amusement. I’m sure glad I have my logs. Let me
I was fishing what we called the “Nursing Home Hole” of the Farmington River in New Boston in early spring of 1972. My father’s fishing buddy, Barbara, was with me as we worked this large, wide and deep spot in the river. I don’t recall where my Dad was…upstream? Working at Milhenders and thus not
A note from our guest blogger, Walt Randall: “This is a work of fiction. Any semblance between characters and real persons is purely coincidental.” “What are you going to do, Tiff?,” asked “quirky best friend” Barbie. “I don’t know. Ever since striking out on my own here in Chicago, I’ve gotten exactly ZERO interior design
Here is something to read while everyone is waiting for the rivers to come down and the real show starts. The world outdoors is a pretty fascinating place at times. I’m sure you all have had cool experiences and encounters that have been quite memorable. Here are some more of mine gleaned from my logs.