February 13, 2009 “I DON’T WANT ANY PART OF THIS!” SHE SCREAMED.

PICS
• SHARKS (this is art)
• HEADSTONE (check out the dates)
• SUNRISE OVER ELIZABETH HARBOUR, GEORGETOWN
• GEORGETOWN STREET SIGNS

Are you kidding me? Isn’t that what the bank robber’s sidekick always says just before he takes a bullet to the chest?
Jesus, Dear, I’m not asking you to help me rob the Wells Fargo stage, I just hoped you might take a picture of me while I land this fish? I’ve really got my hands full. At this moment, it occurs to me that the big barracuda thrashing on the end of my quivering, bent-double rod is probably laughing his butt off right about now. Nancy and I have an understanding when it comes to my affinity towards fishing which in her opinion was probably Commandment #11 on the stone tablet that Moses accidentally dropped on his way back to camp years ago. I highly suspect that Moses was a little troubled by #11 through #20 himself. Sure . . . it was an accident . . . wink, wink.
#11 - “Thou shalt not fish!” (For men, yes; for cute little fishy, no.)
It’s OK, I can live with that. In my own defense, she knew what a lost soul I was when she fell in love with me. The chances of changing me were nil, but she just had to give it a shot anyway. She’s on a mission.
Anyway, our deal is that it’s OK to bring fish back to the boat or trout back to the kitchen at home in Durango, as long as they look like Mrs. Paul’s fishsticks . . . no heads, tails, scales, bones . . . only perfectly matching filets that look like they came from the grocery store. The way God intended.
This evening, after a lazy twelve-mile sail down to Little Farmers Cay in a light wind, we dropped anchor without another boat in sight and I pulled out my trusty rod. Just wanted to test the water off of the stern swim platform. Wham! First cast, there’s Mr. Smiley, the proprietor of this little cove. There’s always a nice dominant barracuda standing guard in every cove. This guy was just a meter-long guppy compared to the monster I caught up at Flo’s last month, but he was putting on a good show. However, since I was just playing catch & release for a few minutes before sunset, I unintentionally broke the agreement and unthinkingly asked my lovely bride of 38 years to take a quick photo of the activity. I never get pics of my fish battles because I’m always alone. Hence, the title quote above.
Therefore, since it’s almost Valentines Day et al, I’d like to appropriately and formally apologize “again” for my barbaric behavior. I love you, Dear; I’ll try harder in the future.
Will you be my Valentine? . . . The “green flash” tonight is just for you.

DEAR NANCY,
Hibiscus are red,
The Gulf Stream is blue,
Blackened grouper are spicy,
And so are you!

Mangos are sticky,
And starfruit are too,
They tingle my tastebuds,
And, Wow, so do you!

Enchiladas are yummy,
Burritos the bomb,
You cook like a Texan,
Much better than Mom!

I wanted to ask you,
If I may be bold,
Will you be my Valentine,
Before I’m too old?
LOVE, JIM