There’s Always Next Weekend.

Let me tell you about my weekend. It was a doozy.

First off- I had all last week off, as I had met my monthly max of hours at the golf course I work at. And even though Matt was home till Tuesday, those last three days wore on me. See, I like working. It gives me something to do. And even with a mountain of chores around the house, I’d rather be making money. So, I made it to the gym plenty, got the rest of my garden in, cooked dinner a few nights, got the registration on the car renewed, mega-cleaned the house, and grocery shopped. But except to go to the gym or to the store, I barely left the house. When I wasn’t doing chores, I was twiddling my thumbs, waiting for Matt to get home. A lot of my time is spent that way. I had some serious cabin fever, and I really wanted to go fishing and maybe have a couple beers.

 So, when Matt remembered last minute that he had a radio station event on Saturday, and that it was the yearly golf outing, I just groaned. Let’s just say that my only basis for expecting what would happen when he finally made it home was last year’s outing, and that was absolutely nothing good. So, I was already dreading his arrival. He had to be there at 6:30 in the morning as well, so I was on my own all day. Well, I decided I was going fishing, boat or no. 

I decided to try three parks in the area- Lottes Park, Babcock County Park, and Yahara River Park. It was a lovely, warm day. Sunny. I stopped to pick up some minnows, just in case live bait would work better.

You don't buckle your minnows in? Safety first.

You don’t buckle your minnows in? Safety first.

I was working my way south from Madison into McFarland, and Lottes was my first stop. I got there, and it was packed. 

There were double as many truck/trailers on the other side of the lot

There were double as many truck/trailers on the other side of the lot

Lottes’ boat launch is the only direct access to Upper Mud Lake. There were boats coming and going from the dock every 4 minutes or so, and there was a back up of boats in the waterway. I had just a couple sunfish nibbles at my hook here. It was shallow flats by the fishing dock, and windy to boot. I was pretty hungry, so I packed up and headed to Babcock, stopping to pick up a sandwich.

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Babcock Park was three times as crowded as Lottes. The launch is bigger, and the building here has restrooms as well as a public fish cleaning room. People coming off their boats had buckets of crappie. There’s a really shallow lagoon at the park, with a small lock and dam at the opposite end of the launch. There’s an island separating it from Waubesa. Lots of people out bank fishing. Not another bite, even though I walked a couple hundred yards up and down the lagoon, and tried about 10 different little lures as well at live bait. Families had all their kids on the fishing platform by the dam, so I didn’t bother. By now it was almost 4, and I knew the dogs would need to go out. I had been out for almost 5 hours. There wouldn’t be much of an evening bite in such shallow water, separated from the lake. I packed up and headed home. Walking back to my car, I had to threaten an angry goose with my fishing pole to get it out of my way and off the sidewalk. I never did find Yahara River Park.

I got a bunch of yardwork done. I mowed the grass, treated the yard for ticks, fleas, ants, and mosquitoes.  I cleaned out the filters in our little pond and dumped the minnows in there. We use it as sort of a live well. I made myself dinner, and wondered when Matt would get home. He finally stumbled in a little before midnight, and promptly told me he was sober as could be, but would prefer to sleep with the dogs. He laid down on the floor with them, and demanded a blanket and pillow. I brought him one, and gave up on the day. I went to bed.

He eventually made it to the human bed some time early in the morning, demanding to know why I made him sleep with the dogs. I answered and rolled over, sleeping a bit longer before I got up.  He had some actual work to do that day, so he dragged himself out long enough to head to the office. He came back to nap. Matt’s hangovers last until about 6PM every time, so I just waited it out. 

On Saturday, I figured that with fishing a bust, and the weekend being blown, I could at least make a Wild Food post. I set out ground venison for deer burgers. Once Matt was feeling a bit more human and messing around in the garage, I put together some patties and lit the grill.

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The coals were getting ready pretty quickly, so I took the patties outside to put on the grill. I set them on that old little stove, as you can see, then  I turned around to take this picture, thinking I could make a blurb about progress on the gas tank.

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I turned back, and the patties were gone. Just gone. The younger of our two dogs, Loki, had snuck up and inhaled two pounds of raw venison patties from right next to me. In the year that we’ve had this pup, I can say he has more than lived up to his name, the little shit. Minutes later, he barfed half the burger up all over the patio. Disappointed with the entire weekend, I trudged over to Hy-Vee for the third time that day, picked up clearly inferior ground chuck patties from the meat counter, and just made those. 

At least the gas tank is looking better and we got the boat hosed out. We got the garage cleaned up, too.

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10 thoughts on “There’s Always Next Weekend.

  1. This post really makes me appreciate how lucky I am to work with my wife. Car pool to work, have lunch and head home together every day. Most of the time I think nothing of it, but seeing how lonely folks can be with offset work schedules reminds me that I’ve got it pretty easy. At least you got to go fishin.

    • See, it can be weird, too, because when he’s home more than usual, I’m like “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere?”. One of the recruiter’s wives in a town nearby said something really similar about when her husband is home more often than normal too. I’ve always liked being by myself, but on weekends and evenings when we’re normally together, it can suck that he has to do these stupid events (I can’t stand the radio station events they do).

    • Cats are kind of jerks like that. We had a cat when I was little that ate all sorts of small critters. We rescued a cottontail from him one time, and every time after that, he’d hide rabbit feet, ears, and tails where he knew we’d find them. This dog just eats everything in sight, food or not.

  2. Pingback: Wild Food: Grilled Venison Tacos | Play Outdoors

  3. Oh man!! That is a bummer. What a waste of venison. Although we’ve pretty much broken our German Shepherd of counter surfing, occassionally if we leave a tasty morsel out and leave the house, he’ll get it down and go to town on it. Hate when that happens.

  4. Pingback: Feast Your Eyes. | Hunt/Fish/Play

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