I remember as a kid, reading the Sunday cartoons and always thinking it was funny that Garfield hated Mondays. I’m not sure if I was influenced by the sentiment, or learned the hard way through my professional experience (yeah….smirk all you want….), Mondays definitely suck.
Of course, there are exceptions to every rule. I'm talking about the smart kid in the back who skews the curve because he aced the test that everyone else bombed. The short dude on the basketball team who ends up going pro. The Monday morning where everything seems to be OK instead of turning into a shit sandwich. You know, Outliers. In the same way you have to admire nature’s way throwing a wrench into the usual patterns, I am forced to admit that this Monday isn't shaping up too badly.
As I grab my first cup of coffee, Charlie (the local weather guy) keeps interrupting the Today Show with updates about “a low pressure system that is sweeping across Wisconsin and likely to drop approximately 1” of snow that will make the morning commute slippery”. It’s clearly been a while since Charlie has had any fun weather to report because he seems uncharacteristically geeked up for such a weak storm. Lucky for me, there will be no commute today thanks to a rotating shift schedule. Today is my Saturday. Let it snow!
Take *THAT*, Monday! BAM!
The kids have left for school, and my wife is at work. The house is deliciously quiet, so a cup or two (maybe more) of coffee, a couple of eggs and I set to the task of figuring exactly how I should best enjoy this snowy day. Hell, I’m in such a good mood even the kickmeanklebiter dog gets an egg. Not one of the organic eggs though, I still have a few store bought eggs, and those are the ones he gets. He is, after all, just a dog.
Methinks that today, some quality time at the vise is in order. I have been slowly getting everything together and ready to go for opening of the upcoming season. My sling pack has been cleaned and re-organized, reels cleaned and lubed. Fly lines have been wiped down and line conditioner applied. Hell, I even found a DIY tippet spool tender while surfing Pinterest (go ahead…make fun. And NO, I didn't pet my mangina while on Pinterest). They work like a charm, so I made enough to cover me for the next to couple of seasons. Of course, I've been filling the flyboxes in a slow, methodical manner. It can be a big task just making sure the basics are covered: A bunch of my new scud pattern (that I have unrealistically high hopes for), a batch of back-up pink squirrels, and enough bead head pheasant tails to help offset my poor casting and risky placement habits.
Today, I’ll be working on hoppers. I smell a foam hatch in the air. And coffee. The irony of tying hoppers as the snow flies pleases me. I’m tying flies in January that I am guaranteed not to fish until at least July, Probably August. That doesn't stop me from picturing one of these bad boys on a slow float along an overhanging weed line. Then, all hell breaks loose as a wiley brown trout suddenly realizes that this "easy" meal has a price.
Good stuff man, goooood stuff.
Another sip of coffee and as the dog settles up next to my fly tying desk, it occurs to me that I’m not sure if this morning could be any better. Big, chunky flakes are falling outside the window, the house is still silent and I’m lost in the peace of mind that only comes from immersing yourself into a task.
Yeah, this definitely feels like the kind of Monday even Garfield could wrap his arms around.