The day dawned clear, bright and full of hope. This was Saturday within the Octave of the Resurrection and invincibility came with it.
After Mattins a cowboy pastor swung by and we visited on the porch. "What's that new flag," he asked. "That'd be the Bonnie Blue," I replied. He liked it and we fixed a date to ride.
Business over, it was time to fish so I drove into the wilderness in search of the piscine adversary. Lake Whitney dam spillway was like Piccadilly Circus, maybe the Marina would be better. No, it was flooded by our ancient enemy, Global Warming.
Undaunted, I headed back to the dam and tried my luck, pulling out a couple of drum in the process while everyone else focused on catfish. They did well, too. All kinds of families will feast on catfish for the next year or two.
But not me. I left the scrum after the first couple of catches and headed for home, thanking God for Texas and the opportunity to fish.
Yours,
LSP
