Occasionally, though, she dons her third-degree black belt and heads to the mall to practice a little shop-fu. That's when I chalk my box calls, sandpaper my friction calls and inspect the reeds on all my mouth calls.
accumulated about all the hooks, feathers, threads and furs a tier could ever want or need. It's a joy, then, to go into my office, sit down at my tying bench and crank out a dozen trout flies or a couple of bass bugs. It never ceases to amaze me that I can clamp a hook into the vise and, in mere minutes, create an object that a fish will want to eat.
The gun-cleaning kit might be missing a bore brush or running low on patches. The turkey-call kit might need some fresh chalk. I might be running low on 6-pound-test fishing line. I try to maintain a master "needs list" so I don't forget anything when I go to the sporting-goods store.
I almost always run into friends while there, and we almost always end up shooting the breeze, swapping war stories and sharing a laugh or 12. My wallet is always lighter when I leave, but so are my spirits.