Sitting on the front porch just waiting for the weather to make up her bleeding mind. We are on the edge of a cool front, Texas style, and that means heavy weather threats in the form of thunderstorms and the obligatory hail (heaven protect my Airstream), wind, tornadoes and all that is part of living in the middle of Tornado Alley.

None of that detracts from the Partagas Sabroso leaf or the Masi Campofiorini fruit – fermented of course – and the yuppie dad walking by with his wife’s Gucci size frufru dog. Around here, we call those dogs “snackdogs” – snacks for big dogs.

I finally broke down an bought the most recent issue of the Drake, and on first read (of it and their web site), the Drake seems to thrive on the perception of an “irreverent” or as a “rebel” rag about the fly life. If you read widely enough, you might know the real rebels lie in the skate industry (one of my favorite looks). Throw in a few four letter words and you’re a rebel, I guess. Maybe I need to read a little deeper? No doubt they are cutting edge when it comes to the way they feature photography – compared to other fly mags. No doubt, I would love to have images show in those pages as well.

On the home front, one of the participants in this weekend’s upcoming fly casting lesson (hosted by TFC and given by Joel Hays), is my esposa. I guess that means I will have “my own” flychick who fishes (had to mangle that one for the sake of the Flyfishchick). I just hope she digs the TFO 8’9″ 3 I got her for her birthday. It should be just the stick for her week on the trail in the South San Juans this summer. Meanwhile, I guess I will be hanging on the Conejos, waiting for her to get off trail. All things being equal …

The bats are about to begin our neighborhood harvest of bugs, and it’s time to get a fish taco.