CurlyShavings

We went fishing this past week in Lake Klein (map) at Greater Cleveland Council's Camp Beaumont. It's a neat little lake, one that I often hear doesn't have any fish in it.

I must argue though, that I've never walked away from Lake Klein without having hooked at least one fish, usually several and this time was no different.

First, though, we had to capture this very patient frog. He/she/it was hanging out near the Adirondack in the Sycamore Campsite that will eventually bear my grandfather's name. We painted it a few weeks ago and decided to check out how good a job we did. And while we were there, this little guy was checking us out, too. (We did put the frog back.)

We were there for Family Night, visiting our oldest Scout who is a Counselor in Training this summer for four weeks. He's learned quite a bit, worked really hard and has gathered quite a few stories to tell.

He's currently working his last week before coming home for a week and then packing up for two weeks of the 2010 Jamboree. Should be a fun July! One of the biggest things we've noticed with him gone this summer is the grocery bill has gotten smaller. The other is there's no one left who is excited about mowing the grass.

But seriously, we have missed him. And I cherish the Sunday drive out to camp with him and the time spent Saturday when I pick him up for his 22 hours at home each week.

Well, it seems that other wildlife was also curious this night. We had four or five damselflies that would land on a hat, someone's hair, the tip of a rod or the tackle box and just sit there.

If one got "shooed" away, another would take its place.

Have you ever wondered what the difference was between a dragonfly and a damselfly? Well, it's really quite simple:

the wings of most damselflies are held along, and parallel to, the body when at rest.

Well, the bluegill/sunfish were biting flies tipped with artificial maggots trailed about 18 inches behind a float.

Even my wife hooked a nice bluegill. So did the little one.

My oldest daughter (10, pictured) was having some trouble. We try to let our children be pretty independent in many things. In this case, that meant more fishing for Daddy.

It also meant some frustration a little further down the shore. I could sense some tears coming as she was having some difficulties, so I went over, helped her untangle her line and get the fly and the float in the right position. We've been practicing some fishing knots and this was a good opportunity to implement an Improved Clinch Knot. If I'd felt a little stronger on the blood knot, I doubt I would have had to snip, clip and re-tie everything else.

With a "fresh" maggot-like thing on the sharp little hook, she cast it out, began to reel it in and bam!!! she hooked a nice-sized one.

I think it's pretty easy to see just how proud she is.

And she should be, too.

The moon as seen from near Rock Creek Ohio on July 3rd, 2010.

Before moving into the neighborhood in 1998, I'd never seen a flat top haircut before, except maybe Buzz Aldrin on TV. George had one, though, and even in the winter when he'd cover it with his orange knit stocking cap, you knew it was there. George was about as old as you could be without thinking of how old he might be. Nowadays he's even older of course.

George held court three houses down from us in a house with a garage as full of junk and miscellaneous as I'd ever seen. I never saw the inside of the house but I figured it was as full as the garage. Had to be. In thinking about it now, it's quite surprising that the house and garage didn't overflow into the yard, but it didn't. And despite the fullness of the garage, the place never looked like Appalachia. Wish I knew how he pulled that off.

He was amazing in how he kept up with things. Actually, the whole neighborhood was fairly up-to-date on happenings, but George out-snooped everyone else. It didn't take much to bring him strolling past. I'd get out my circular saw or think about pounding a nail or two and he'd just show up. Always stayed on the sidewalk unless you engaged him and got him talking--he just seemed to know where the line was on being a distraction.

Well, most times.

Early on I decided to upgrade the electrical panel and rather than sit down and calculate all the outlets, lights and various loads, I just picked a panel with a good-sized main: 200. Yep, from 60 amps to 200 and I'd need to roll out new wires all the way to the peak of the house. Those wires were thick and pretty ornery so I chose to put them in nice, big 2" conduit.

Well it didn't take George long before he was standing there asking what I had that was so big that I needed 200 amps for my little-bitty starter bungalow. I think he was convinced I had a pot farm in the basement and needed all those amps for the grow lights. I still have the occasional nightmare where I'm working inside a hot meter base with him asking me questions from the sidewalk. I'm sure he was just there to pull me off the live wires if I happened to make accidental contact. Yeah.

I'm not sure George ever got rid of anything. I imagine in his house a drawer with a small box in it labeled "string too short to save". Well, maybe not, but he seemed to keep just about everything.

When a squirrel would deposit an acorn, a walnut or a buckeye in his hedge and forget about it for a year or two, those saplings would get pretty high before he'd think about cutting them down or digging them out. George taught me the meaning behind the old proverb about the best time to plant a tree being twenty years ago and the second-best time being today.

One Fall he showed up in our front yard with a couple of his lost-acorn oaks and a couple of volunteer red maples. Thought we might want a couple of trees in our front yard. Well, I didn't. Trees are trouble, I thought. You have to mow around them and rake their leaves and all kinds of maintenance I didn't have time for.

And I planted them anyway. My wife probably had something to do with that. The oak had been cut once and there was a twisted little part about five feet up on this seven foot tree. I figured I'd be digging it out the next Spring.

Well, that year we planted those two and a year later we moved a green gauge plum to the front yard and a year or so later a peach went into the back yard. My wife probably had something to do with that.

And twelve years later my children are thirty feet off the ground in the most perfectly-shaped pin oak tree that ever was. Even the maple has a lovely figure. And even though you can only get twenty-some feet off the ground in the maple, they climb that one, too.

I will always be proud of George's trees.

I still don't like raking, though.

I rarely get any "real" comments from anyone other than my two faithful readers. That doesn't stop me from periodically sifting through the Spam for mis-labeled "real" comments.

Recently I noticed a pattern. Someone was posting some witty one-liners (unrelated to the entry). It was pretty clear that it was some sort of spam bot, but they were so witty, I had to find the source.

Well, I can't say with certainty that I found it, but I did find a collection of quotes in a "fortune" list that contained all the quotes I was looking for.

Here are my favorites from the list on the subject of taxes:

Intaxication: Misguided euphoria about a tax refund (of your own money).

Taxation WITH representation isn't so hot, either!

Taxes are going up so fast, the government might price itself out of the market.

There is nothing more permanent than a temporary tax.

Any new tax law must exempt enough voters to win the next election.

Death and taxes may be inevitable, but they should not be simultaneous. -- Mack

The ability to tax is the ability to control.

The power to tax involves the power to destroy. -- John Marshall

There is only one way to kill capitalism: By taxes, taxes, and more taxes.

A fine is a tax for doing wrong. A tax is a fine for doing well.

Be wary of strong drink. It can make you shoot at tax collectors and miss.

Death and taxes are inevitable; at least death doesn't get worse every year.

I've just about always hated taxes. Becoming a small-business owner has only galvanized my dislike.