I went out for a catch anyway, using a standard lure. I was looking forward to trying out that Quill Gordon lure today, but it must have gotten lost in my pockets somewhere. I hardly have any customers. I work a little out of my way to keep folks satisfied with all their leisurely outdoorsman needs. It’s not like I’m working myself to the grave. All right, I guess I can stop here. Doctor didn’t say how much I had to write. The doctor says the stress is from worrying about the store staying open. She says it’s from years of winding thread around hooks and trying to get my ties perfect. The doctor said it would be good for me to keep a journal to help manage my stress. My wife said it’d be one less pill to take or one less trip to the hospital if it worked. I’ll give it a shot. I told her it can’t be the stress, though. I run a tackle store, for crying out loud. That long winter should bring me a hungry catch. In the sunlight over the water she’s like a little feather speck. She’s a thing of simple beauty, spade heckles like a mayfly mated with a hawk.
I used wood duck feathers from one of the ducks I shot up at Crawford’s Pond. Nearly pricked my finger winding the fibers just right so the ginger hackle fanned out the way it ought. I just tied a Quill Gordon lure in the shop.
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