The Fish Whisperer

Flying the day after an ultramarathon seemed like such a good idea when I booked the ticket. Of course, when I purchased tickets to FL with a 50 minute layover in Atlanta, it did not occur to me that if our plane was late I might be expected to travel the length of this massive airport in less than 30 minutes on legs that refused to work properly.

Long story short- I clung to Big E's arm while he drug me through one terminal, onto the train and most of the way through a second terminal only to discover we had no plane.

At least the walk to a new gate and plane was at a much more leisurely pace.

Once in sunny FL, we tried our hand at some new, non-snowy sports. Although the kayaking and paddle boarding were a blast, I have to confess, the deep sea fishing was my favorite. This, of course, had nothing to do with the fact that I caught more fish than anyone on my side of the boat.

Just call me the fish-whisperer. (A couple of those are Big E's too, but don't tell.)

That said, it's quite possible that Big E never actually had much of a chance to put his hook in the water. It turns out that while I excel at catching fish, I'm completely inept at removing them from the hook. What can I say? They're slippery little suckers....

Big E's job was not done with hook removal either. He also had to protect my prized fish from these guys while we waited for our fish to be cleaned on the dock. (Because, of course, I also don't know how to filet the fish I catch.)

Hopefully I redeemed myself slightly the next day by at least cooking my own fish up for the family. At least I mastered the beginning and end of the process....

Maybe someday I'll master the whole hook removal thing. Until then, it's back to running....