31 degrees yesterday morning, but went fishing anyway. Managed to scratch out one fish before calling it and getting back to the vise. I’m not sure if I’m just getting old or if I’m losing my one-man war against domestication.
It’s like that opening scene in Gladiator when Quintus says, “People should know when they’re conquered.”
Then Maximus replies, “Would you know, Quintus? Would I?”
If that’s the case, I’d rather be old. At least old is inevitable.










