On days like today, that is sunny warmer days in March, I really get the fishin' itch. I start thinking about wading in the river or taking the canoe down it, getting up early to pull the boat down to Hardy Lake or Monroe Lake with Dad, or putting a small washer on the end of my line and going out casting in the front yard to stretch the line out. Yeah, fishing really gets in my blood during March, even though it'll probably be at least a month before I actually go.
I was thinking about all this when I was driving home from work today, with the window down in the truck and the radio playing some country music. Thinking about how exciting it is to have that big ol' ugly smallmouth bass tear into my Pop'r going bloop, bloop, under a shady sycamore tree. Thinking about all the blizzards I've won and lost over the years to my buddy Ryan or my brother or my dad when one of us caught the "big one" for the day. Yep, I've got the fishin' itch.
Then I get home, step out of my truck, knowing I won't go fishing for at least a month and what is hanging there mocking me? My 5' 6" medium flex fishing rod with a clown colored joined Rapala just begging to be tossed in a river somewhere and snag the Blizzard Fish.
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