After my father died when I was 16,my brother(I know-bear with me)figgered I needed male bonding or something and we bought each other flyrod for Christmas and enjojed many weekends fishing Md + Va streams.Alas,college,US Army and 5 years lost in New Orleans interupted my fishing.Then I moved to Fla and met Margie.She'd grown up a share-croppers daughter in S.Georgia and learned to fish at an early age plating with minnows in a puddle while her granny fished.Meat fishers for sure.This was in the 30's.Anyway,when we got together her boys had an old canoe and we bought a cheap tent and headed for the lake.We stopped for bait at a store in Wewahitchka,Fla.While she examined the worms I nosed around and what to my wandering eye should appear but a 8' 9wt Eagle Claw flyrod in a rack behind the counter.Something snapped and I headed across the store with paw outstretched.I say paw because I'm a big man-6'1" 260lb,and bearded and scary looking.The clerk backed off but handed me the rod.We didn't have much money but,bless her heart,she somehow understood.I was a little messed up at the time-bad divorce,booze-and flyfishing was great therapy!Helped me get my head straight along with her wonderful presence and patience.Margie has always been supportive of my fishing and chides me my rods and such,but it was she who suggested a place in WNC and even picked out the land our cabin is on.While she doesn't share my flyfishing passion with me,give her a cane pole and crickets and she's the happiest lady I know.I still fish for solitude and therapy and because she wants me to.
Thanks for sharing.
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