Day 7 began with a brief, heavy rain which turned into light showers on and off during the day. Such is not generally good for fishing. But the fact was, Mark had the biggest fish so far and that bugged me. I went without socks today and used some of Curt’s duct tape on my feet to deal […]
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On Day 6 Bobby noticed I had blisters on my puffy left hand. Curt offered me some of his duct tape because Band-Aids were surely not going to stay on in the heat. I added duct tape to the list of things borrowed from the kindly Texans. As I left the dining cabin with the duct tape,
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I woke to find my left arm and left hand were both puffy, and my elbow bruised all around my boo-boo. I figured if the puffiness continued up my body my head would explode in two days. Hm. At breakfast, Bibi shared the story of a fisherman who showed up one morning unable to wrap his hands around a coffee mug with one puffy hand and had
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On the morning of Day 4 I noticed that my left hand was just a little puffed up, my elbow a little stiff, my ears sunburned. I took heart in the fact I wasn’t creaking and popped two aspirins with breakfast, which included eggs, ham, cheese and green peppers on a sesame seed bread. Quite tasty. We’re off
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Day 2 ran into Day 3 because Mark got up four times in the night due to some silly stomach upset. At 6 a.m. we dragged our sleepy selves to the dining cabin in search of Imodium, which is something we always take with us on our travels . . . until this trip. We found Curt and Bobby in
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Day 2 began with a 2 a.m. wake-up call in Portuguese which I responded to with something sort of like “Obrigado” which is Portuguese for thank you. We dressed in our fishing garb–lightweight shirts and zip-off pants pre-treated with insect repellent–and walked the quarter mile to the motel restaurant. There we were confronted with about six tables covered with food, including one
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My last blog posting was about a fishing trip to the jungle to catch peacock bass, and some people said that it appeared to be easy and go rather perfectly. Here’s the real story. We left Michigan on a Thursday at 5:35 a.m., arrived in Miami for a lovely afternoon there, then got up at 2 a.m.
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On January 31 Mark and I set out to catch peacock bass on the Amazon River because, well, someone has to catch peacock bass on the Amazon. We flew from Detroit to Miami, then from Miami to Manaus, Brazil. Manaus is in the bottom right of the map, below. Our destination is a river mislabeled the
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Pity the poor stepkid that agreed to take care of our critters while Mark and I are on vacation. Said critters include: Dusty, a 14-year-old dog that turtles out on the front steps and is constantly hungry; Purrkins, our 8-year-old cat; Chip, our 7-year-old ferret (which is pretty old for a ferret); 9 hamsters; two boisterous mynah birds;
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Since the news is always filled with sad stories about evil doers and greedy people, when I heard recently of the death of a really good person, I had to blog about it. Her name is Lynn Grimes and she’s one of those people that seemed to carry sunshine on her shoulders and in her
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