I frequently drink my eggs raw. I like eggnog. Go figure.
I'm writing these days. I should be fishing now that it is after Thanksgiving but I haven't made it out. I'm burning through the ink.
Tonight I was at my local fly shop for a talk on modern tech clothing (I wear wool. Who would have guessed?)
The talk centered around "better than wool" and "it breathes."
I wear a lot of wool in the field. The Patagonia stuff I have is nice but so is the twenty year old wool union suit.
I like wool pants. Wool shirts. Wool sweaters.
Leave it to a Scotsman to clone a sheep.
I'm looking at the Olympic Peninsula for a spring outing with the Amber Liquid guys.
What could go wrong?
Bears. (Mountain) Lions. Basic navigation. Booze.
Pretty much covers it.
I have new heads coming in. There's a new 4" Bougle should be here by Christmas. A Cascapedia (4/5) trout reel on order.
Yep, I'm spending treasure on fishing gear. Sue me.
A writing partner and trout buddy has cancer.
You know in the movies when someone looks absolutely normal and is told "you have cancer" and the audience is stunned because she's so beautiful and ... ?
Yea. This isn't like that.
I'm buying some lifetime gear so my buddies can use it when I'm gone and if it takes me another thirty years to fade away, I get to use it.
I think of Warren Zevon every now and again. Mostly, when I'm having a sandwich.
More writing to do. I've got to get at it.
Prost.
