The wounderful life in Iraq.

I was notified via email today that i may be spending some time in Iraq in Jan. It should be a fun time. I find myself mentally preparing for the trip even though it wont take place for another month or so. My time in Iraq has been a somewhat poor memory. It was only until recently that I have come to appreciate the experience. It takes a person that is part nuts, and part patriotic to pull a stunt like this. I did volunteer after all. I will post more information as i get it.

Being, Nothingness, and Fly Fishing

I wanted to touch base on the fly fishing aspect a little more. I have found that fly fishermen are by nature, a damn mess in other peoples eyes. To an "outsider" We spend all out time, money, and efforts just to catch fish.

The real truth of the matter is, fly fishing is an art, art comes by grace, and grace dose not come easy. It recaptures life's rhythms that have been lost for quite some time. It can be as simple or technical as you wish. The majority love good cigars, fine crafted beers, and food fit for a king.

I once came upon a older chap while fly fishing on the Savage River in mineral county MD.

He was hunched over a twig fire brewing coffee in a small pot. The fine aroma filled the brisk afternoon air. I stopped to talk to the man. His first words to me were, " why don't you join me in one of lives simple pass times that need not be forgotten." I couldn't decline his hospitality. The fresh coffee was hot and seemed to warm the core. He was a soft spoken man in his 60's.

His hair was white with specs of red. He wore an old tattered fishing vest with a net hanging from a D ring on the back. He carried a book of french poetry in the top right pocket of his vest.

He and I fished for the remainder of the day, catching small wild brown and brook trout.

He noticed the rod that I was fishing with. "who is the maker of that fine rod?" he asked.

I replied with the question, "Do you like it?" basking in my own glory, because it just so happened to be a rod that I built the week prior. "Its nice" he said. I was honest with him, and admitted the rod was a product of mine. He was a connoisseur of fine split cane rods.

It's an acquired taste that I grew out of once i tried to build one a few years ago. That endeavor proved to be more difficult that it was worth.

Split cane bamboo fly rods are not overly difficult to build, but they are astoundingly time consuming. I did enjoy the experience, but lack the time to do it more often.

I let the man cast my rod a few times. He was surprised at how effortlessly the rod casted line, and how pretty it was with its honey brown, and silver colors. The man told me that if i ever wanted to sell him a rod that he would be more that delighted to own such a piece.

I told him that we might be able to come to some agreement. I ended up giving the rod to him because his birthday was a few days past. He was more than grateful.

Him and I have fished together a handful of times now, and for some reason he always has my rod on hand for the trip. It makes me feel good to know that someone could appreciate my work and passion for doing it.

Now all i need to do is find a woman that shares my passion for life, love, and fly fishing.

If she exists. :)

the house

So, i have been painting my house. it has proven to be most tasking on my nerves. When it comes to painting, I'm not the most graceful person in the world. Since i have started this project i have come to understand but not appreciate this fact in my life. I guess once you start a project, it should be finished, even though its not what I'd rather be doing. The dog "Bear" now has a tan colored tail with a few random spots of gray and tan on his all black coat. For some reason he feels the need to bump into only the walls with wet paint. It's a pain in the butt to be sure, its funny at the same time though.         

The opening...

So, a few family members decided to do this so here I am. I thought I should jump on the ban wagon before I get left behind.
I have been in the military for some time now, it’s kind of like being married. “For better, or worse,,,, tell death do us part, sort of.” It’s been a long road with a few bumps here and there. For the most part it’s been a good life. I have been to some beautiful places, and some NOT so beautiful places as well. I will leave out the bad places, because no one wants to hear about hot weather, no trees, and sand in places that you have long since forgotten about, until you found it again with some chafing. I do love the military life. It’s an acquired taste to be sure, but it’s my taste just the same.

On my time off I pursue my other passion in life, fly fishing. It seems to be my center in life.
If an addiction to fly fishing was a crime I would have been put away a long time ago. I fish with a few select friends that "I feel" I get along with, they might tell you different, but this is my blog and not theirs. :)