Busy bee lately. Pulling my tale-hairs out one by one at work. 70 hours at the old inbox this week. Up at 230AM to return email, playing catch up in a current that isn't swimable for a management that stands up when they should sit down, and sits down when they should catch bullets.
Bright spots were a couple weeks ago. Spent some time with my friend Chris, his son Cameron, and H. Got lost in all that is good with being a dad. I'm found of phrase, "Reclaim your youth, take them fishing." That is exactly what we did.
My heart is still beating between the southern reaches of the Black River and the Ferry. Hudson fell asleep on my chest. Swinging in the hammock, his hair matted on my check. He slept safely in my arms. In the shade of Junipers we napped as the slow roll of the Black River lazily passed us by.
Bluebird skies carried hot sun overhead. The water, gin clear, carried away the heat and thigh high rocks presented an inviting sit. Cooling down at the Black. If I click my heels three times can I go back?
We actually started on Lake P. Switched to conventional gear, tried our luck at the drop shot. It came back aces.