One funfilled day after another. That's life these days. You know that it is good when even the little disappointments don't get under your skin and seem more than manageable.
Oh, hi Anita...
And I have been busy. Aside from the regular deadlines, there have been tons of activities to fill up the hours. The last three weekends, I've been making new acquaintances - people, pick-ups and fish.
Knowing that Steve is a fishing enthusiast, I thought it might be fun if I learn this outdoor sport. It would be something we could enjoy together. It began with a seminar a few weeks ago. I went ready to figure out just what the sport was all about. I arrived to find myself the only woman registered for the class - a little daunting, but I pushed onward. After only a few minutes, I understood just how a fish feels in the fishbowl. Usually the observer, I became the observed. This didn't stop me from diving into the world of men and fishing. The room was a sea of plaid - I of course hadn't dressed the part. And I didn't bring a cap. Had I dressed for the event, I may not have been noticed - no such luck. I was pulled from the crowd during the break to have my photo taken with the pro - the beginner. I did get a lot of information, but knew that until I was out with a fishing rod in hand, it didn't mean a thing. Steve fixed that - bought me a rod of my own - what's a fisherperson without a rod - and we headed out with his dad on the boat to Elm Lake, where I could bait my own hook and drop a line.
The wind was brisk and the temperature not quite what I had hoped. Fingers like ice and bundled up - the scene wasn't what I had pictured in my head. And after hours of fishing, only Steve had bagged a fish. Took me hours to warm up, and our charter fishing trip was only two weeks away. We did laugh a lot, and I did enjoy the company.
We spent most weeknight evenings looking for a new pick-up. Steve's had developed a chronic illness, and despite the fact that it could be fixed, we agreed it was time. I got to explore every lot in town - and some out of town. But none of the trucks were just right. The search would continue.
The following weekend, I put all things fish and four-wheel drive behind and headed to Mitchell for Steve's mom's family reunion. If learning to fish had been tough, mixing it up with the family might be tougher. As it turned out, I wasn't even close to keeping up with this hard-drinking crowd. I sipped, they chugged. I excused myself when I'd had enough, escaping to the hotel room and the dogs, who had come along for the ride.
No family reunion is complete without drama. This one was no exception. We headed straight for home on Sunday morning, feeling tired and rough around the edges from the drinking. But Steve's sister was moving and needed a few extra hands and lots of muscle to get the job done. We stopped at practically every truck dealership along the way, then packed load after load into the truck for transport. Belinda was thankful, but we were exhausted. By 5, we were home in bed, catching up on much needed sleep. The week would be short - me on deadline, and the charter fishing trip just days away.
Then we found it. Brilliant blue with lots of chrome, the truck was the "dream truck" he had always wanted. Financial finagling complete. Steve became the proud owner of a GMC Sierra that was clean, mean and quite pretty. He wouldn't say "pretty" - but that's men for you.
Unfortunately, there was no time to drive it, as we left it parked in the driveway when we headed off to Ohio with his folks to do a little fishing on "big water" and meet my parents.
I'm sure this account may be a little boring, so I will end it now, and continue with the next phase later...it deserves an entry of it's own.
Until then, know that I did catch a few fish, love the truck, and still enjoy life in the fishbowl that is South Dakota.