Considering I rarely drink milk and am one of the few women in my age group not constantly gnawing on calcium chews like a teenage boy with a wad of tobacco, I am pretty impressed with my natural bone strength which was mightily tested this weekend vis a vis an airborne push pole that became momentarily possessed with evil vengeful spirits.
But we’ll get to that story in a sec. (No, I did not karate chop it.)
The Professor and I took Little Chick down to Port O’Connor on the Texas coast for the long weekend. The purpose was to spend time with friends, kickoff summer at the beach, cookout, rent a boat and get out on the water…and maybe look for a few redfish. So I took this just in case a fishing opportunity presented itself.
On the roadtrip down we were stopped in our tracks at the tracks while a train passed. So we passed the time at the Farmers Market. We couldn’t resist the famous Luling watermelon and some gorgeous tomatoes and peaches.
We made it to Port O’Connor (POC) Friday evening, checked in to our cute 2-bedroom cabin and hopped over to Josie’s for some mexican food. Which we later learned is not their specialty, despite being a texmex joint. I knew I had made a rookie move ordering the enchilada when our table neighbors received the two most beautiful burgers I’d ever seen. We talked with them about the burgers so much I was secretly hoping they would offer us a taste, but alas, they just talked them up while chewing with their mouths full of Josie’s famous burger.
The next day we scooped up two of Little Chick’s friends and took them out on our rented boat for a day at the beach. On the way I spotted a push pole floating in the channel so the Professor turned the boat around and I grabbed it out of the water. We looked around at the boats near us to see if anyone was missing it, but it didn’t seem like it. So I decided we would take it back to the marina at the end of day and leave it there in case someone came looking for it.
We had a fantastic time at the beach, lots of waves and sun. Made friends with our boat neighbors, saw a mini dog fight, found seashells, saw tons of dolphins closeup, got a giant barge in the intercoastal waterway to honk for us. The girls had a blast, we had a blast. By the time we headed back to the dock we were all hot and tired and sunburned and salty. Someone was in our boat slip which created all sorts of confusion. And once we got the whole thing sorted out, I forgot to take the mystery push pole into the marina.
Alas we scooted on our way and wined and dined at Cathy’s Seafood (BYOB) where we enjoyed the best fried shrimp ever on the planet anywhere that I have ever had. Oh my word these were to die for. And I don’t particularly love fried shrimp, but I am telling you…these were good.
The next day we ventured out on the boat with a little fishing in mind. Nothing too serious, just a boat ride with the hopes of redfish as gravy. Once again we were busy in our own world and forgot to take the push pole into the marina. Which is so frustrating because it is a pain on a small boat that has no way to secure it. And it’s not like we would have even used it in the meantime. We were just planning to anchor up and walk grass edges looking for fish.
So here are the two lessons I learned that morning:
1) when I am inclined to do a good deed, I need to go ahead and just do it. Not pat myself on the back for the idea and get around to it when it’s more convenient
2) never run full throttle in open choppy water with a push pole unsecured
I had my foot over the push pole in an attempt to keep it from bouncing around. It worked pretty well until we hit some serious chop and the wind picked up. In the flash of a second, the tip of the push pole bounced up and caught air. Instead of flying through the sky, in a nanosecond, it wrapped around my ankle and snapped in two.
Ffffffffuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!!!!——(The mother in me stopped from screaming the full profanity just shy of the the very last consonant.)
In a fit of pain-driven rage I tossed the demonic push pole into the water. The Professor was concerned some fast flying boat would hit it, causing even more problems. He pulled the stiffy carcass back in. So we still had to live with that pain in the ass evil push pole on the boat, only now in two pieces. The damn thing was breeding. Like terrorist cells.
I could stand well enough so once we determined my ankle wasn’t broken, I propped up with an icepak while Little Chick and the Professor went wading for fish.
They didn’t see any but it was still a gorgeous way to spend a day on the coast. Despite the quick-forming golf ball on the side of my ankle, I even shuffled around some oyster beds and cast a few times. (Probably not wise in retrospect since I am still limping and haven’t been able to drive yet.) But it was so fun to cast at jumping mullet with the blind hope of stumbling on a rogue red. I did see one small-decentish redfish that spooked me more than I spooked it. I cast wildly in its lane but it was long gone.
I spent the rest of the holiday weekend downing wine so as not to whine. My family took great care of me while I hobbled around and propped up with ice packs. The Professor worked like a D-O-G in the P-O-C to cook and clean and load the car. I was useless.
Despite getting bitchsnapped by some bad push pole karma, POC was a fantastic way to launch into summer. We even kept the celebration going once we arrived home last night with barbecue chicken, hotdogs, crinkle fries and the much-hyped Luling watermelon. Which I have to say, did not disappoint. Juicy smiles all the way around.