So, I have been absent without leave for a while now and I apologise, well, sort of. The truth is that although I have missed writing and chatting to other writers on Facebook, I’ve been enjoying myself with a new hobby that appears to have robbed me of my spring and summer. Alas, I don’t think I’m cut out to face a harsh winter on a riverbank freezing my implants off.
In my 35 years of life I never guessed for a minute that I would be explaining to an audience that I’ve become a fisherwoman, a lady that fishes, or any words to that effect. Nonetheless, here I am telling you just that.
It all started out when a friendship with Nick grew into much more and has continued to grow over the past eleven months or so. My son had been begging to go fishing for a long time and saw his opportunity to do so when Nick and I became an item. They have been many times together and love each others company. I even tried to get my daughter involved by buying her a pink rod, alas, she didn’t bite.
I went along one day with my computer and wrote whilst he fished in a match, but I could barely concentrate because I was so focussed on watching his float bob up and down (this is not a euphemism ;).
I watched him fish in matches a few times, but I wasn’t allowed to join in for obvious reasons. It is amazing what a competitive sport it can be and the varied range of baits that can be used. Who’d have ever thought that Carp have a taste for spice? The equipment is also mind-boggling and if I’m honest I don’t have much of a clue of what’s what, and I have a feeling that it will take years to learn the ropes, or hooks and lines as the case may be ;). I digress. Anyway, I knew I wanted to have a go.
I wish I could remember the first day I ever went fishing was in terms of what month it was. What I will never forget is the feeling of having something on the end of my line, the thrill of not knowing what’s there and reeling it in with an air of mystery hanging thickly in the air until finally catching a magnificent sight of the scaled beauty that chose your bait as a snack. This feeling hasn’t diminished since the day I started and for the people who have known me for a long time are baffled by how much I love it. The first fish I caught was on a rod, which I still haven’t quite got the hang of and I still have a lot to learn. So, I moved onto the pole and things have improved immensely since then. The size and weight of my fish are growing which each dangle of my maggot. The tug of the fish trying to escape (which many sadly have) is exhilarating, and of course the subsequent smug grin flashed in response to the arching rod or a huge length of elastic protruding from the end of my pole (again, not a euphemism.) In fact, on the last couple of trips I’ve caught the biggest fish and put a few of the men to shame. Ssshhh, but that’s the best part, I couldn’t have been more delighted on the last trip where I even had a bit of a crowd proclaiming ,“She’s caught a whale!” coupled with a half envious and half proud comment from Nick, “I can’t take her anywhere.” Of course, it’s the woman’s touch. I am yet to beat the hell out of Nick in overall weight, but I figure the gap in experience has to close at some point?
Alas, winter is coming hard and fast and I admitted wholeheartedly whilst watching Wet Nets last night and seeing the presenter perched on a snowy river bank whilst excitedly describing a recent catch, that I couldn’t face the harshness of winter for hours upon end. To be honest, even heavy showers have me running for cover. No, nope Siree, I hereby proclaim to be a fair weather fisherwoman and that annoys Nick no end.
That brings me to my next point. I have started a new title tentatively named, Done Fishin’. I’ve managed to get a few thousand words down and I’m hoping to finish at least the first draft by spring. It’s a romance with a woman who you’d never expect in a million years to be proudly displaying her catch whilst wearing pearls and lipstick, oh and not forgetting the aromatic scent of Eau De Toilette Carp .