It was that dreaded time of year. No, I don’t mean tax time! It was the time that time of year when no hunting seasons were open and spring fishing was still weeks away. Normally, I would go for a hike or something, but the wind was blowing so hard, the snow was falling horizontally, not vertically.
There were even small dog warnings out. That meant, if you had a dog like a Toy Poodle or a Chihuahua, there were precautions you needed to take. If they needed to go outside to do their duty, they should be securely fastened to a long leash, or they could actually be blown away into the next county by the wind.
A little while ago, I thought my crazy old neighbor lady was out in her housecoat trying to fly a kite in the wind. The kite was actually her dog, “Poo Poo” and I wasn’t real sure it was actually my neighbor because her housecoat had blown up over her head. It was not a pretty sight. I was getting ready to run out and help her, but thank God her husband came to her and “Poo Poo’s” rescue. Now, I just have to get that terrible vision out of my head.
With all the excitement over, I decided this would be a good day to start getting my fishing equipment organized for the days to come with promises of beautiful sunny skies and gentle breezes. I comforted myself with the words some wise person once said, “No winter will last forever and no spring skips its turn.”
I started by going to the garage and bringing in all my rods and reels. It took several trips. My wife doesn’t believe me that there are male and female fishing rods and reels, and they multiply when stored in a dark garage.
After checking all the rods for bent guides, I removed all the line from the reels. Especially all those with bird nests in them. I sure wish the birds wouldn’t do that. Next, I cleaned them up, oiled them, and tightened the screws.
Then out came the spools of line I had bought on sale three years ago. I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t lose a fish again like that huge bass that broke my line right at the boat last year.
Some of my older rods and reels needed to be replaced, but that’s hard to do when you’ve had them so long. They seem like an old friend. Besides, with some of the prices for the latest and greatest rods and reels, I would have to take out a small loan to pay for them.
I lovingly carried all my rods and reels back to the garage and threw them in a corner. Now it was time for several trips, bringing in all my tackle boxes. My wife wasn’t falling for the same story I gave her about the rods and reels. She just shook her head and left the room.
It is absolutely amazing what you can find in your tackle boxes when you sit down to straighten them out and clean them up on a cold winter day. Like the crankbait I found in one of them that had no rear treble hooks. It was because I had to have them cut off after I buried it in my forehead when I hung it up in a tree and tried to jerk it loose. People gave me some funny looks while I was walking from the boat ramp to my truck, and even stranger looks as I walked into the hospital emergency room. You would think they had never seen anyone with a crank bait hanging down between their eyes.
As I continued to rummage through all of my tackle boxes, I came across a beat up old jitterbug fishing lure. It was the one I had used to damage my boat and the snake that was trying to get into the boat with me. One of the hooks was bent out of shape. I guess that happened when I accidentally hooked the snake and tried to cast it out as far as I could.
In more of my tackle boxes, I found dried-up worms, a half-eaten peanut butter sandwich, a melted candy bar, old fishing line, rusted hooks, assorted sinkers everywhere, empty pork rind jars, used Band-Aids, and dried blood in several places. I don’t remember how I cut myself. Maybe it was that snake’s fault.
My exceptional mind thought it would be a good idea to take everything out of each tackle box and lay it out on the floor. That way, I could wash out all the tackle boxes in the bathtub, dry them out with my wife’s bath towels, and then put everything back in each box, organized by type of bait. That way, I would also know what I needed to repair or replace.
While I was doing that I came across my favorite spinnerbait lure. You know, when I go to heaven, I want to take that spinnerbait with me. I shall cast with care into weedy waters where big bass lurk, and a monster bass shall rise and strike my favorite spinner bait with fury. I shall fight it until it is near the boat, until the beautiful, blonde, long-legged, buxom woman I am with shall shout with fright at the sight of the monster bass. Net, I shall shout. Net! And this woman shall reach so swiftly for the net that I shall not lose the fish. That’s not the way it happened last summer when my wife tried to help me. Heaven should be different shouldn’t it?
Speaking of my wife, one thing you should never do when cleaning and organizing tackle boxes is wash your tackle boxes in the bathtub that she loves taking bubble baths in. Also, never lay out your lures and hooks on her carpeted floor. Do you have any idea how hard it is to remove hooks from carpet without having a lot of snags everywhere? That, along with many stains that won’t come out, means I will be replacing carpet in a few weeks. I hope I did a good enough job cleaning the bathtub that I don’t have to replace it. Did I mention that I will also be cutting out all expenditures I had planned for fishing tackle and even some fishing trips to help pay for all this?
The next time we have a cold winter day, and I am looking for something to do, I think I will read a book, watch a movie, or take a nap. Cleaning out tackle boxes is expensive.
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