Fishing The Coast, Oregon and Washington

May 2015

This is the day that the Lord hath made! Let us rejoice and be glad in it!

May 2, 2015

Happy May Day!

I missed May Day again.... I mean, I so wanted to give out little May baskets as we did as children. It's such a fun surprise to greet people with colored paper woven baskets, filled with flowers. It just takes me back, and back is where I want to go, lately! You know, back to those innocent days!
There are many things I have lost in the past years, and I have properly mourned them. My son, most of my vision, a good deal of my health.
I continue to mourn them. I have to! It's a natural process that we all mourn things we have lost, so that we can move on and celebrate the marvelous gifts that we are given, daily.
I'm back at the coast. It's so confusing to me, because wherever I go, I see the things that I love, and that I don't want to lose. I become attached to things, fully knowing loss.
To have to choose between places to settle is a tough thing, when I'm at one place or another.
Oregon city is pretty with its spring blossoms crowding the air, but the Kilchis river valley is fairy tale land! As I have realized, however, "fairy tale land" becomes normal and less magical if you see it every day. I find that so odd! I never ever enjoy it less, but sometimes, perhaps, I just appreciate it, more. Like... when I've been away!
You never want to become so accustomed to magic, that you take it for granted!
My back yard boasts crystal clear river waters that cascades over deep green moss spotted rocks. The current plays an orchestral concert, featuring new composers each night- depending on the water's level and force.
I listen from under a stack of covers, windows thrown full open to let the cold air and river music surround me.
On a walk in the morning light, tiny blue butterflies dance in the suns rays, fluttering just off of my fingertips, almost connected.... almost!
Olive green swallows dodge and fight in flight over their first chosen man-made houses we offer them. We don't dare go out to look, or we get swooped!
Along the river's edge, pink salmon berry blossoms burst out against thick grassy brambles and underneath, a wet carpet of moss and oh! Those tiny purple flowers that poke their little smiling faces back-and-forth in the breezes! I love those flowers, so!
How on earth.... to choose? Oregon City-pretty, or Kilchis Valley magic?
I know as well as you do!

Perfect magic, pure joy.
Home, sweet home.

May 6, 2015

It is coming up on ten years since my aorta dissected.
Every year, I used to get a CT, but since I had breast cancer, the docs have changed it to an MRI, as they don't want me to have more radiation.
It's scary. It is like going to see if your next year in life will be medical, or if you can go on living without much worry. Like a "Do not collect 200 dollars, and do not pass Go!"
Of course, when I dissected, I had just been tested two months prior, and they had given me a good report. "No worries!"
Oops. BIG worry. I was split from my carotids to my illiacs!
But, as most times, they put Humpty Dumpty back together again!
Changes. It used to be that Andrew and I went together for these tests. We'd nervously giggle in the doctor's office, waiting, playing basketball with wadded up paper towels, and throwing them into the waste basket.
In the eye doctor's office, Andrew would pick up that big plastic mold of an eye. It came apart, puzzle like. If you put it together correctly, it would be quiet, if you shook it. But, if you just threw the piece inside, randomly, it would shake like a tambourine. Andrew shook it, put together right. "This is an eye." He held it up on display. He then took the pieces out, and put them in, randomly. He shook it and it made a huge clatter. "This is an eye on marfan syndrome." Oh, we have a sick sense of humor! I laughed while the nurse looked on, horrified. I can only imagine what kind of Mom that nurse thought I was to laugh at such sickness. Muhahahahaha....
"Quality" parent/child time both in the cardiologist's office, and the ophthalmologists office. We did everything together! Eye surgery! Heart surgery! Whoop, whoop! Oh, fun of all fun!
But, we did have a close tie when it came to all of this, and it's just wrong that I'm still alive, and he isn't. Just plain wrong. I used all the information that I knew of, to keep him healthy and it just didn't fly.
It just didn't fly. Andrew, bye bye...

Andrew Allen Martin
August 12, 1987 - August 31, 2012

For a long time after, the sun would shine, but it wouldn't warm me past my skin.
It is selfish of me to be upset to go to get tested by myself, but it simply is what it is. I will forever be a child at heart. We all are, and I'm lonesome and afraid without my marfan buddy. The first CT I got after my son died, I cried, the entire visit. The nursing staff kept asking me what was wrong, and I kept telling them, and they felt awful for me, I'm sure. The entire visit was just 'yuck'.
I can sustain my cheery mood thru out, now, but when I go to get in my car to drive home, the tears still come. I wonder how I'll be, today. I get to meet a new doctor. I'll forever miss Dr. Song-in-my-heart. His real name is Dr. Song, but Andrew and I added the rest of his name, after he fixed our aortas by wrapping them in Dacron. He is moving on to another building and specialty, but he will forever be our Doctor Song-in-my-heart!

I wrote this soon after Andrew's death:

Andrew used to bring me pretty leaves because he knew how much I loved Fall. I'm going to try to heal my heart of the emptiness of Fall, for his benefit. I want to love colorful leaves again, and heal, heal, heal.
Andrew would want it that way.
He loved how I decorated the house for Holidays. He loved things strongly. He got excited about everything good; food, Holidays, vacations, like I did. I have to carry that on. I can't lose that. I am holding on, tightly, knowing full well I could easily lose the battle and slip into bitterness. I refuse to become bitter like I've seen some do. I really understand that bitterness. I do. It's easy to go there. I pray so hard that I stay out of that path, and forever beam joy.
I can feel the prayers and thoughts from so many of you, and I'm so thankful for that.
I think I can... I think I can... I think I can get by. I don't know how people get by without the love of their Heavenly Father. I just don't know. He is my only salvation through this. He walks with me and he talks with me. I feel his arms around me. He knows I hurt.

Andrew and I were so close. So alike, in so many ways. Ways that I wasn't proud of, sometimes, too! Sometimes I'd hear him say something, or see him do something, and I'd roll my eyes. "Oh, please don't be like me!" I'd laugh.
I always had trouble saying no to Andrew. He had a way. Was he spoiled? Do you need to ask? It's difficult not to spoil a child with a life threatening medical problem that I know so much about. I shouldn't have. But- Woulda, coulda, shoulda... Many of those to come, I'm sure. Oh, the guilt. The grief. The sadness. The denial.
The good Lord understands when I curse in anger, or I cry in despair.
What are the stages of grief? I've read them so many times, yet when I need them, I can't think. How far have I progressed? Very little, I'm afraid.
I read books that say it takes 2 years at the least, to get by this grief. But-- I have my Heavenly Father close by my side. I'm going to beat that time frame.
Someday, and someday soon, I will feel joy, again.

Yes. I feel joy, now. The sun warms me to my soul. I honest to God, celebrate Christmas.
But, I'll never, ever lose my memory of Andrew. The person may have died, but our relationship never, ever will.
Off to the doctors! Here goes nothing and here goes everything!

May 9, 2015

So.... I found myself pretty stifled for a bit, there. Words just didn't come out well. . For some reason, I was able to post this on Facebook, but not here. Not at my home! No! Sh! It just isn't true!!! But, the following was written, so maybe... maybe I should consider it.
Or, maybe not. Maybe I should go out and live life and smell the flowers, and consider it later!!!

I had an MRI today, and my aorta, 3 cm from where the Dacron ends on my thoracic arch has grown 6 cm since my surgery. The recommended size for marfan patients to do preventative surgery, so it won't dissect is 5.0. I'm now at 5.1.
My cardio-thoracic surgeon says it is time to think about fixing my aneurysm with that scary heart surgery I have been dreading.
I want to run away.
It's a good thing I can write on Facebook, cuz I sure can't talk right now. It just comes out guttural. I am scared spitless. It will be ok, the doc says. "92 % of people live thru this surgery."
Oh, great.
It will be two weeks in the hospital and six months recovery, but they say I'll need two surgeries to do it. That is an entire year!
My first surgery was 12 hours, with six of them on the heart and lung machine. This will be similar.
Someone hold my hanny.

No, really. Someone... hold my hanny.

May 14, 2015

There is certainly no fight to keep my interest, but it seems like every fishing season that I used to plan surgeries around, come and go, without my involvement.... at__all.
Used to be I'd sit and think, "OK. What season do I not mind missing for this eye surgery?" But, now, it's steelhead season (gone) Salmon season (gone).... I haven't participated fully in ages, in any of my favorite seasons! Help!
I hear my neighbor's truck rev up and pull his sled out of the driveway as often as I used to go. But, it's a constant reminder that someone else is dialed in... and I'm not!
Bill and I wait all too patiently for our new boat to be finished. Even when it is, will we be able to go? Will the doc OK my pulling a salmon out of the water, or will I only get to feel the bite, and then hand it off?
That is, if I even find the time in between appointments and surgeries, to go?
I had a marfan friend once, who was writing a book on the miracle of marfan syndrome patients living longer than we used to think we would. Way back when, we were told we'd only live to be 35 or so. Oh, my! Last I heard, though, her book on the marvels of living turned into a mini series of the miseries of living with marfan, past "our time". I mean, there was a reason we didn't live long. Things wear out. Our joints, our aorta, our 'parts' didn't last very long. So, we face surgery after surgery, trying to keep up with our advancing age. It's a miracle, yes, but as I heard one person put it, "After a while, your body cannot sustain so many repeat surgeries."
The surgeon, the other day was talking about how much scar tissue he would have to cut thru, and how that would make this new heart surgery so difficult, and dangerous.
I lived my life vicariously, not really worrying about what I did, health wise. I mean, after all, I might as well live it up, you know? 35 is not long enough to pay for the sins of my decadence! But--Uh oh! I'm now 55. Get that! 55! That's old!
I am so happy to be 55. Unlike my friends, who don't like to celebrate their birthdays, or admit their age, I'm the first to shout out, "I'm 55!- I'm 55!" I celebrate Birthdays like none other. And the wrinkles on my face do show how much darn fun I've had!f
I'd just like to be able to live more, though, and not go to so many doctor's appointments. I'd like to know that when I wake in the morning, the lens in my eye will stay put, and my lungs will not collapse. I'd like to be assured that I won't wake in the middle of the night, and have to call 911 for a dissected aorta, or worry about the next heart surgery.
Oh, man... I shouldn't write, today. Talk about singing the blues! Where did this come from, today? I really never know how I'm feeling that day, until I start to write. And when I realize that I'm going to a dark place, I know I have to find a way out of it, or my day will be blue.
This is what happens, though, when I write, and when I haven't fished in far, far too long! I think this is the longest I have ever been, IN_MY_LIFE, without fishing. I fished in my Daddy's arms before I was walking! I sat in hog lines with my Dad on the Willamette. I have felt my legs sway, perched atop my Dad's shoulders, feeling him slip and slide as he crossed the raging Sandy river.
I spent hours in a boat with my Grandpa on Diamond Lake. (Oh, how I miss the lake!)
And when I came to my own, I fished with my girlfriends in grade school, and then with the first high school boyfriend I could find, that fished. It was, after all, a requirement.
When I moved to Cannon Beach, my first home away from home, I fished a little creek that I won't mention. Every morning before work at the Cannon Beach bakery, or Dueber's Variety, I'd be there at the crack of dawn, and I'd come home with a jack salmon, or if I was really, really lucky, a real big salmon!
Then, onto Seaside, where I caught salmon and steelhead out of the Necanicum and met a great crowd to hang out with. Fishermen and fisherwomen that I'll never, ever forget.
And then my fishing buddy in Warrenton, Ben Tagliovento, (God rest his soul) would take me as a young Mother to the Lewis and Clark, or fishing for flounder behind the Seaside High school, or for salmon on Social Security beach! Ben really taught me so much!
After my divorce, one evening I was resting in a bubble bath, reading the recent edition of STS, and I found Milton Fisher's ad for guiding the Nehalem. I had never been with a professional. Oh, how awesome would that be? I was feeling lonely and sad that night, as my ex had the kids for the first time, and I was alone. I called him up, and with a recent windfall, paid for my first guided trip! Through meeting Milton, I met Jim Erickson, who introduced me to my one true fishing love, Bill Hedlund! Bill taught me way more than anyone had ever taught me. He opened up whole new worlds of fish for me! I had never seen so many rods, reels, and boats, boats, boats!
My entire life, I'd say, has been directed by fish and fishing. And now, I find myself feeling a bit lost without it.
I think I have gone fishless before, for spells in my life, but right now, I can't place when or why. Maybe we are designed to forget those times! And perhaps, I will forget this time also, as Bill and I take ownership of our new boat, and again, become what I'm craving, now. I'm craving to be "dialed in". :) There is nothing better than being dialed in!
I think that's the problem. Getting started is difficult. It takes time and effort and many trips to become dialed in. One trip alone won't make it, and getting started all over again, is kind of like dieting. You don't' see the progress or the fruits of your labor for quite a bit of time.
A new boat, though, will make our time on the water pass much easier.
So, in a way, that will help me get through this day of blues. I'm looking forward to not only a new boat, but for the new boat that will help me to get dialed in, again.
And speaking of dieting... maybe I'll also get a new outfit one size too small. In all of this surgery/recovering/convalescence, I have become a bit out of shape!
You know, finding out about my new heart surgery is nothing new. I really knew I'd had to have this some day. I guess I can still expect a bit of depression/sadness over it, though. I owe myself a little pity party. But, now I want to be over it, and on with it. I want to fish while I can, before my surgery, and darnit... look forward to more, when I can.
Life goes on. It does! And for me, that's a miracle!
(And it really is. The other day I was lying in bed, and my brother called. Bill thought I was asleep, and I really didn't want to get up yet. I was half listening to their conversation, as I really couldn't help it. It was on speaker phone. My brother said, "You know, she really is lucky to be alive at all, but don't tell her that." LOL. I am lucky to be alive! I am! I know that better than anyone!)
It is because of that fact, that I really hate ot waste any of my time feeling blue! Let's get on with it!

May 17, 2015

On this day in 2003....
I think it might be fun to follow some of the threads that we started, way back when! So, I looked up today's date in 2003, (and that's not easy on this board! The search feature doesn't allow it, so I had to do it by hand!) and came up with this thread:

Salmonator (who joined in 2000!) says...

The internet's affect on quality of life??

Ok so I'm bored :grin: Do you remember when you had to drive to the coast to find out if that last rain hit your favorite watershed? Do you remember when you couldn't find your latest tidebook and just went crabbing anyways? How about guessing about current regs because your last copy was stuffed in the corner of the boat and mildew ate it? How about driving three hours to buoy 10 and coming up skunked because you didn't have up to the hour reports on Ifish? I can honestly say that I have saved at least as much fuel for the truck and boat than I spend for broadband every month. This doesn't even count the fishing buddies and get together found through ifish (and other sites ). Whadda you all think?

I took it out of the archives, so if you'd like, I'd be interested in your opinion, now. Please try to keep it civil!

May 19, 2015

Yesterday, I was extremely tired! I hadn't slept well all night, due to a migraine, and woke way too early! I'm one of those early risers that just has trouble sleeping in. I'm getting "better" as I get older, but still, 7:00 AM is considered "sleeping in".
My old roommate was a night owl, and I asked her why she thought she stayed up so late, and her first thought was that she didn't want to miss anything. LOL. That's why I get up early!
Andrew was like me, a morning person. David, the opposite. He was a night owl, but now, more and more, I see him before 9:00, and it always shocks me.
I remember once, as a young Mother, I got up wayyyy early to have a little time to myself. It was probably 5:00 in the morning in the winter. Nothing better than rising before light. I poured myself some coffee, and sat down to ifish a bit.
I heard the pitter patter of little feet, and I started to sigh with disappointment until he cuddled up next to me with his blankie and said, "I'll keep you company so you don't get lonely." Awe. Sweet Andrew. He was always so thoughtful to me. That's the sweet Andrew I miss so much.
Despite my lack of energy, yesterday, Willie had the time of his life.
I was supposed to go to the coast, but I was just not in the mood for a two hour drive. My eyes didn't want to work that well.
So, I packed up the car with Willie and we went to the river beach. He had so much fun!
When David got up, he took Willie to the park.
Around evening, my girlfriend Patta called, and I told her about my secret dog running park on the river. She didn't know where it was, and I had trouble telling her. She asked if she could pick me up to go. It just sounded fun, despite my exhaustion. By that time, I was toast!
But, enjoying her company so much, Willie and I waited out on the front lawn. I had packed a little snack picnic with two beers for Patta and I. I'm not much of a beer drinker, but I know she is. I knew she'd love it.
The lightning show had just started and it was so awesome to watch!
We took our big dogs down to the river, and had so much fun!
So, today, it's off to the coastal river.
I have gotten a bunch done, this time. My garden is beautiful and I kind of hate to miss the strawberries first production.
First Bill and I are going to go see the new boat in progress, and then I'm off with the two dogs (Bill's dog, Rev and mine) to the coast. Bill has a medical appointment, and he'll follow soon after.
BTW, It looks as if the days of owning a home in Oregon City are coming to a close. I just can't afford it, no matter how hard I try, and no matter how much money I try to save. I'm going to put the house on the market. It is what it is.
I think what I'll miss most is my time with David. We have gotten so close, since Andrew's passing. David is a jewel. He's one of those with the most even temper I've ever seen. He rarely gets mad, and always has a smile. He is a genuinely happy sort. Those kind of people are hard to come by, and I am proud to have made one! :)

May 24, 2015

Think back to high school. (Scrreeeam!)
No, really. It's worse than you think!
I'd have these horrible dreams that I wasn't going to graduate. Did everyone have those, or just me?
They would go something like this. I'd be called to the counselor's office, and she would ever-so-calmly tell me that I was missing credits and that I'd not be graduating with the rest of my class.
I'd wake in a terrible heart pounding sweat.
Oh, no! I shoulda studied harder!
I was one of those students that coulda done so much better than I did. I didn't have to really try to get good grades. It really irks me now, that had I put forth more effort, I woulda been so much better!!
The same with piano lessons. I'm a good enough player, now, but had I practiced harder, longer, I might have been great!
I'd sit down to practice, and my Mom would tell me she was going to the store. After she'd leave, I'd lay out my music, and run upstairs to call my girlfriend or something.
When I heard my Mom drive back up the drive, (I'll never forget the sound of that Volvo!) I'd run to the piano, and resume my practice.
"Yep, Mom!! I have been practicing ever since you left!"
That worked out so well! That is, until now, when I can't smoothly get thru Rach's 3rd!
Who really pays, in the end?
Last night, I woke in a sweat. I had a dream that I was going to lose my home
Had I only worked harder.
Had I only saved, if but ten dollars a week from the start.
Woulda, coulda, shoulda...
The other day, I opened my gmail and in front of me was a reminder of the days I owned, and did all of my own book keeping.. There in front of me, was a monthly to-do list of companies that needed to be billed for advertising. I haven't turned off those reminders, because it had been kind of fun to remember those days.
You know, those good old days that didn't feel all so good, at the time? LOL. Life is strange.
It wasn't a lot of money coming in by any means, but it was plenty enough for me that today, I could cover my mortgage and bills quite effortlessly.
Let me repeat... Life is so strange! I look back and see very clearly what I didn't know were the good old days!
Every darn day is a good old day!
Of course those days weren't all good. I was crazy busy and tired all of the time. I was so stressed out! At the same time, right there in my mail box was proof to me, of the fix for what wakes me panicked, at night.
What is better? Peace of mind, or financial freedom or do either matter at all?
Before I lose my home, I am going to sell my home. I'm not late on any payments, yet, and I'm not going to let that happen. I have this built in panic system that won't allow me to really fail. Thank God!
Moving on... I am fascinated by the following word- Get ready for it!
Yestreen (Dictionary word of the day!) I grabbed my fly rod, and headed out to the river. It was opening day for trout and I was so excited!
I had barely been able to tie on a Borden's Special. It took me almost 10 minutes with my new not-so-great eyesight!
Bill said to me, "But, are there any fish out there!?"
I stopped. "Wha?" What a question!
Never, ever would I expect that kind of negative inquiry to come out of his mouth. "Are there any fish?!" Huh? That's not why you fish! Bill knows that!
And lest we not forget, we don't live so that we can pay our mortgage or so that we can make sure to graduate from high school!!
Life is about so much more than that!
Life is simply about fishing, regardless if there are any fish, or not.
It is the act of fishing, of living, that matters!
How darn profound of me.
I did this little video, yesterday, showing all my favorite places in the forest, by the river. Enjoy! It helped me to see that I really do love living at the coast! I do! It's just that losing my house seems like a failure to me. It bugs me. Oh well.
BTW, I didn't get a bite, but I had a great time!

May 26, 2015

Parents: Teach your children what Memorial Day is about! It's confusing!
Growing up, I remember that my Mom and Grandmother always went to the graveyards of beloved friends and relatives, and put flowers on their graves. After, we'd have a big family picnic in the park where everyone laughed, hugged, and ate too much.
Many families go camping on Memorial Day, or to the beach, where there are crab races and flea markets and such.
It wasn't until much later that I understood that it was for service women and men, and then (embarrassingly) just recently, that it was for service men and women that_had_passed!
So, what, in all of the festivities of Memorial Day, all of the picnics, the family fun, the camping, represents the somber mood that we should really be in, while remembering those that had passed fighting for out country?
Regardless, this was the first weekend that I really focused on those that had passed, while serving our country.
An interesting note from Wikipedia:
"Memorial Day is not to be confused with Veterans Day; Memorial Day is a day of remembering the men and women who died while serving, while Veterans Day celebrates the service of all U.S. military veterans."
I think that is part of what confused me, growing up.
Anyhow, I think we should also have a holiday where we remember our personal loved ones who have passed. A special day, for that special purpose!
That way, it would be so much less confusing!
I'm having fun picking colors each time, for the date, above. :) I love these kinds of simple pleasures! Today is purple.
I have been fishing, lately! Isn't that bizarre!? LOL. Almost every time I go to the river, I take my fly rod and toss it out into the low, clear Kilchis river. It's at nearly summer levels. I've been using a Borden's Special all weekend. Not because I want to, but because I can't see to tie hooks, anymore! I even bought a pair of +3 reading glasses just for the cause, and STILL cannot tie 6 wt. line/tipper, whatever.
And let me tell you... When I look down into that box of neatly tied flies, that is depressing! Such choices, and yet no choice at all! Agh!
In this low and clear water, that Borden's Special probably spooks anything within a half mile! "Run! Swim! Out of here!" I hear a chorus of cutthroat as they head for the ocean or the hills!
"Here comes that mean fish catching Jennie and she's got that wild pink hook on!" Tee hee!
One thing for sure. Fishing doesn't cost me any money, and that's what I need, right now! In my past, I I have spent so much money on tackle and fish goodies, that I'm set for life! Not only have I spent my own money, but with, I've been sent goodies from friends and fellow ifishers.
It's fun, because some of the things have the member's name tagged on them, and when I fish, I dream I'll catch a really big one, and can report that it was due to that person's gift, that I caught it. Some day it will happen!
Well, it's off to the city, again. I have to make a quick run to get David some gas money and food money and do a little gardening, before heading back to the coast this weekend. Bill and I are going to be in the "Bounty on the Bay" tournament. Then, it's back once more to the doctor on Monday. That is a lot of driving!
Thank the good Lord that I'm able to drive!
I really have so much to be thankful for!

May 31, 2015

Click pic to zoom

It is harder and harder to push my canoe off shore, when going out for a paddle. The water level is low, low, low!
It's deep right by shore, but quickly shallows to a sand bar, and I have to push, push, push to get passed it. I found that just like any other boat, if you get up and move your weight forward, it helps, but at the same time, a canoe is tippy!
I finally got out to deeper water, and began the soothing but monotonous motions. Stroke, stroke, stroke... when I was ever so rudely interrupted.
"MEeeeeeow!... YOW... Meeeeow!"
Yep. Molly the fishing cat, waiting back on shore. She knew I was going paddling. Why didn't she let me know, before I took off?! Grrr
At the ripe old age of 11, she still convinces me that she enjoys a cruise around the Kilchis. I headed back to shore to pick the demanding cat off the shore.
Push, push, in... and push, push out.
She eagerly joined me.
She did not enjoy the pushing part at all, but soon she was nestled on the bow of the boat, and peering ever so curiously down into the water.
She's a tease, that cat. She pretends she is at it just for the ride, but noooo. As we approach closer to the other side of the river, her eyes become wide and wild.
It's just like all of us, really. The grass is greener. There are more fish on the other side of the river, or around the next bend, but things are never as good when things are easily accessible.
It was like yesterday. Bill exudes this phenomena.
We were in the Bounty on the Bay tournament. We had to fish in the duck boat, because our new boat isn't finished yet.
But, we were fishing up at Memaloose, and before I knew it, the boat was headed out to sea.
"Where we going? Down?"
"How come?"
"That's where the fish are."
Turns out he was right, but still... If we are fishing bobbers, we should be fishing spinners. If we are here, we should be there. If we have eggs, we should be using shrimp.
And Molly thinks if we are on this side, we should be on that side. And she really thinks so!
I know better than to go anywhere close to the rocks jutting out of the other side of the river! I know, because years back, I got about four feet from one, and she leapt out of the boat, and landed half in and half out of the water. I was panicked! Not because of her swimming, but because she immediately went up the rocks and into the depths of the forest that camouflaged her from my site.
Cats do not come when they are called. Not when an adventure is at stake! I called and called! Finally, I caught her.
Imagine getting in a wobbly canoe.
Imagine holding a mad cat.
Now, imagine getting in a wobbly canoe, holding a mad cat. Yeah. You get the picture.
Somehow, and I don't recall the bloody details, but we did make it back to shore.
Molly will forever try to fool me into thinking she is a sweet and lovely lady of a cat who enjoys a calm paddle in the river with me.
Grab her sunbrella, and let's go! Shall we bring tea?
I know better.
I just row to shore and pick her up, anyhow.
I think it's fun, regardless, and we both pretend. I bring coffee and pretend it's tea, and waffle on to her in an English accent.
I mean, how many people have a cat in their canoe?
That's just plain barmy, cat!