A simple journal post for today.
I’m dead tired even though I slept hard last night. Just about every bone in my body aches from the abuse I put it through for three days last week. Three days later I’m paying for it, as always with the pain comes lack of sleep, and sure enough I woke up this morning feeling blue.
I told my wife, the one and only Mrs. Kyd, that I was “stove up” .
“I’m all stove up this morning.”
“You’re what?”
“You know…stove up.”
“And what the heck does that mean?”
“Stove up” is an old midwestern term I guess. It means you’re dead tired and feeling it all over. If someone says that to you in Kansas, you’ll know exactly how they were feeling.
“Man, I feel for you, know what you mean.” would be the polite reply. They’d know why you were acting so slow.
Please don’t ask me to look it up, or find out its origins, cuz I’m too stove up to bother.
At first I thought my unhappiness today is brought on by the pain I’m going through at the moment. But then it dawned on me it’s being compounded from a lack of people in my life. I’m friggin’ lonely.
I’ve come to the horrible conclusion that I’m really not that important to anyone. No one besides the dogs depend on me, at all. It’s a sad reality when you reach that point. Everyone’s life would be unscathed by my death when you think about it. I have a few friends, but really the gist of the conversations are “you doing alright?” and “yeah, I’m fine.”
“Talk soon.”
I even believe my passing would be more of an inconvenience to my wife, being stuck with two dos to worry about. I know she loves me dearly, but believes we needed two dogs like a hole in the head. Little does she know they’re the only reason I’m still alive.
I do manage to get out and socialize, if and when my body cooperates. If saying hi to a few folks is socializing. But I’m missing people I love and sit here brooding about it.
I had the best of times, kinda sorta, last week. Just a really nice time of it. I say kinda sorta because it would have been better to have done that with a brother or a cousin or someone close. A grandson maybe.
Had a good time fishing was all there was to it, simply standing by the water and trying to catch a fish.
Away from the trials and tribulations of life.
Trying to stay out of my own head.
Went Wednesday afternoon to the trout club where I joined three years ago. The club consists of a lodge complete with a small restaurant, a good chef and bedrooms for overnighting. Which is what I did for 3 three days and two nights. Glamping is the term I think, glamorous camping. Although it wasn’t too glamorous, considering the place was built in 1905 and hasn’t change a lot since.
The land the lodge sits on also consists of two large ponds, and one lake between them. Just an hour from the big city, but you feel you’re in the middle of nowhere. The waters are stocked with rainbow and brook trout from our own fisheries, but since it’s catch and release only there’s always some fish to be found. If you’re good enough.
I basically stand there fly fishing, moving from one spot to another trying my best to catch a few rainbows. The sport of a thousand casts it’s called, for good reason. Early morning for 4 hours, then back out again for the afternoon and evening bite.
Civil twilight is the best time to catch fish I’ve always thought. Civil twilight is approximately 30 minutes before sunrise and 30 minutes after. That real quiet, half dark and half light time where you could still make things out, but not all the details.
If anything else today you learned something new…civil twilight.
Friday morning was the greatest time in terms of numbers of fish. Although there were several other old retired fools like me fishing, the wily rainbows liked the pattern and color of fly I was using. Thirty some fish in three hours. They weighed anywhere from 2 pounds on up to the biggest of the day at 12.
Cast cast cast….fish on…netted….released. Repeat. There’s wasn’t any time to think really, to get all wrapped up in thought.
So I sit here all stove up, three days later, wondering how I’ll make it through this day. Waiting for a call or text from someone who cares.
I’m in my head today and need to get out.