Tuesday, June 13, 2017
Although he was to my left and some distance away, I could clearly see him.
“What is that guy doing?” I asked mainly to myself. “I mean, the dude just caught ANOTHER fish! What is that? Like, number five?”
Longing to feel the bump indicating a bite, I stared at my pole and mumbled, “I’d be better off fishing for rocks, that’s about all I’m snagging!”
Releasing a long sigh, I reeled in my line then traipsed to the picnic site where I rifled through my tackle.
“Any luck?” my husband asked.
“Nope!” I replied.
“Whatcha you doing?” He asked as I continued to rummage through my tackle.
“I don’t know. Looking for something . . . anything that might make a difference.”
Looking didn’t help. Not finding anything new in my tackle pouches I went back down to the water and again attempted to fish.
Not a single bite!
Feeling skunked, I took a break and headed back to the picnic site for a snack.
A short time later FISHERMAN passed our way. “How many did you catch?” I asked, trying to hide the frustration in my voice.
He grinned. “Oh, just caught lucky number seven.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “I have one thing to say about myself, I stink.”
“What are you using?” he asked.
A monotone answer escaped my lips. “Worms.”
“You’re in the right area. Just be patient. You’ll catch something. Here, let me show you what I’m using,” he said as he walked towards me.
He quickly explained his set up—plastic crayfish rigged Texas style.
The irony of his set up toyed with my head.
He turned to leave then paused and dug in his tackle pouch. “Here’s a few plastic crayfish and some slider weights to get you started.” He laid the items on the closest picnic table.
“Thanks,” I said.
With renewed vigor I quickly switched my lines to his Texas rigged method, climbed in my kayak, and headed back out on the water. Unfortunately, by that time the wind had picked up considerably. After multiple casts and fighting the swelling trough I called it quits. For some reason, that day was not my day to catch fish.
Life can be like that. You can plan, you can prepare, you can believe you have all the right tools, and you can cast your line. But sometimes the fish don’t bite. Sometimes things go wrong. And some times, proven methods don’t work.
Does that mean you give up?
It just means that on that day and under those circumstances, you didn’t catch any fish.
And that may mean you evaluate your tools, you evaluate your methods, you continue to prepare, and you continue to practice.
You keep striving, you keep working, and you keep on keeping on.
Because some day when you cast your line . . . you will be at the right spot at the right time . . . and that day will be your day . . . the day you catch that all elusive fish!
** all photos are compliments of pixabay.com with the exception of the photo of the plastic crayfish (that photo is from me).
5 thoughts on “Not My Day”
Much wisdom here, Jill. Well done. (Better luck next time.)
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I’m glad you’re blogging. This is encouraging.
Thank you, Constance.
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