“The words that a father speaks to his children in the privacy of home (or boat as added by Muskoka Outdoors) are not heard by the world, but, as in whispering-galleries, they are clearly heard at the end and by posterity. ” ~Jean Paul Richter

Happy Father’s Day everyone!

Here is a blog post I wrote last year about one of the joys about being a father. It’s called Sweet Spots.

I am selfish. It’s something I hate to admit. Let me tell you about it.

There is a small rock face in Tim Lake. I call it my fishing sweet spot. It has earned this designation from the simple fact that I can anchor off the rocky crag and catch a mess of Lake Trout at 40 feet.

Always.

It’s the kind of place where you can take off your lifejacket and carefully slip into the depths of your canoe and watch the sun drift across the horizon. As you lie back against your seat (with your life jacket as a back rest) you quickly find that life’s issues and problems are held back by the gunwales, the fishing and an impending nap.

A spot where life is good and only I know about it.

I am sure you have your sweet spots for fishing. The spots that you keep to yourself. The spots where the fishing is great and consistent. I think they are sweet spots because of the way that life can stand still in them and not necessarily because the fishing is good. As much as it would be good for the sport of fishing to expand if we were less secretive about where these spots were – I understand why some things need to be kept secret.

I felt that way until recently. I found another sweet spot. It’s two, actually. This time I don’t mind telling you where they are. When I hold my 6 month old daughter close, I have found a sweet spot on both cheeks (just ahead of her ears). If life’s problems and trials threaten to distort my hold on reality, I simply pick her up and hold her close. Then, I sit down and put my cheek against hers and watch the sun drift across the horizon through her bedroom window.

A spot where life is good and I don’t mind admitting it.

Happy mother’s day – but can daddy have a break yet?

Our daughter at 15 months and we are doing the best we can mom.

Hang in there dads. Life will return back to normal soon…

For those of us fly fisherman who think we don’t need to wear glasses while lauching our flies into the currents, this graphic video is for YOU. I was directed to the British Journal of Ophthalmology website where I saw this video of the surgeon removing a hook from an anglers eyeball. In the interest of public safety Muskoka Outdoors recommends you wear glasses whenever you fly fish. Get the message out people! (Quicktime is required to view the video)

Happiness is not always the first fish in the boat. It can also be playing in a pool with round circular objects. Our daughter demonstrates this in the photo below:

It only took the silent sound of a falling glass and, suddenly, I found myself remembering a large rut in the forest floor – not to far from an old, rotten stump on Spier’s line. It was one of the first times dad had taken me deer hunting. To this day, I am surprised it was not my last time.

I had promised that I would be quiet for the entire time we were on the deer stand. To keep my profile down, Dad pointed out the large depression in the trail and gestured that it would be my temporary hiding place for the next couple of hours. I did admirably well for about 3 minutes.

What was a kid to do? After all, dad had let me carry his old single shot pellet gun. Included with my new ‘piece’ was a tin full of funnel shaped pellets. It was not long before I tried to silently break open the barrel of my pellet gun and load it with the small silvery ordinance. Then, between dad’s ever panning eyes and glances, I picked a spot on the freshly cut stump and launched a small projectile at it.

“Thunk!”

That was the sound of compressed air pushing the pellet out of the chamber towards my rooted target. It momentarily grabbed dad’s attention and each time I held my new firearm as if I had no idea what was going on. Dad would roll his eyes and continue to scan the surrounding forest for the unlikely visit of a deer.

Somewhere between dropping the metal tin of pellets (for the second time) and my frequent position changes on crunchy leaves, Dad reacted. He sternly said something like,

“If you are ever going to be a good hunter you are going to have to learn to stay still and BE QUIET!”

He stormed off the watch in frustration and indicated we were going to go back to camp for coffee. As the rest of the crew returned back from their watches and looked at dad and I already in the cabin, one of them asked why were back early.

Dad looked at me in mild frustration and sighed. I don’t exactly remember his words, but he said something humorous about his new hunting partner that liked to stump hunt.

He made us all laugh. I could tell he was disappointed, but at the same time I could tell he was glad I was there. He understood that the whole learning process of his restless student was something he was looking forward to. Stumps and all.

The sound of shattering glass pulls me away from the memory.

Lara (our 11 month old daughter), has managed to knock her first glass off the table and on to the waiting hardwood floor. It happened somewhere between flinging peas and spraying cracker bits. It had been a long day and I was slightly irritable as I scanned the large mass of glass shards now covering the floor. I looked in her eyes and she could tell I was disappointed. She was waiting for my response…

I laughed. She laughed. We all laughed.

I now understood that the whole learning process of our new, restless student is something I am looking forward to.

Broken glass shards and all.

My wife and daughter got together for a quick video shoot to wish all of our family, friends and blog site visitors a Merry Christmas. I can’t say I like the outfit I had to wear, but I went with it.

Merry Christmas!