In retrospect, I think that was the moment that the fickle finger of fate stepped in. At 3:30 in the afternoon, I went out to convince the fish car that a trip to the Wabigan and Nolan’s cabin would be a good idea. That usually means adding ½ a quart of oil, putting some air into at least two tires, and speaking softly to her as I wiped her windshield. That’s when I tried to open the garage door.
Nothing. Well, maybe two inches. I soon discovered the door spring was in two pieces. I also discovered that a 300-lb. garage door is beyond my lifting ability. The fish car sighed her relief by letting some air out of her tires. I got on the phone and managed to find a technician (turned out to be the company’s owner) who would come out on a Saturday morning of a holiday weekend. I don’t know if he was a gung-ho entrepreneur or my heavy sobbing got to him, but I had a new garage door spring by noon on Saturday.
Now the issue was my prior commitment to help my nephew on Saturday morning. We were going to repair and paint his front window. When I spoke to him, he said he would go ahead and start on his own. I would join him in the afternoon, and we could knock it out in time to be on the Wabigan by 5:00 PM. I was hot, sweaty, and exhausted as I climbed off the ladder at 7:00 PM. The fish car took me home and settled in for the night after consuming ½ a quart of oil. I settled in for the night after consuming a bowl of aspirin.
Sunday is the Biblical day of rest. That’s how I know God isn’t married. After church, I accompanied the wife on several ‘errands’ that wrapped up around 2:30 PM. That was a full 3-4 hours before the best hatches on the Wabigan and about two hours before the rain started. Not a deluge. Not heavy rain. Just enough rain to ruin any chance of pleasant, successful fishing on the Wabigan.
On Monday, the officially recognized Memorial Day holiday, continuing rain and my wife’s claim to spending the holiday together quashed any chance for an early morning trip to the Wabigan. As we backed down the driveway, the garage door closed smoothly and quietly. The fish car was settling in for a quiet holiday morning nap as a drip of oil hit the garage floor.
Royal Dun
