Moving

Most of us have moved at least once in our lives, but many more of us have packed up our belongings (including the things we should have thrown away) to relocate more times than we care to count. After my initial cross country venture to Colorado, I’ve loaded up my life three more times to replant my roots and I’m hopeful this last endeavor will be for a very, very long time.

There’s nothing fun about moving. The boxes, the heavy furniture and the couch that barely fits through the door are just a few of the reasons that moving is a friend to none. In addition, the majority of people pack up and move during the summer months and if you haven’t noticed, it’s been another scorcher this summer season. But, through the sweat, occasional frustration and many helping hands, my move is now complete.

There’s still plenty of work to do inside my new house, but at least everything’s here. It feels like a blank canvas waiting to be filled with memories and the more than occasional cookout. I love hosting and now I can finally do that with fidelity.

With so many new chapters to be written as another school year has started I’ve been feeling ever so grateful for my family and friends. My brother-in-law, Seth, in particular has been such a huge help each and every time I’ve moved, but he vowed to never lay another hand on my pullout couch again.

I even had people I hardly know offer to help me and it got me thinking about how much good there actually is in this world. I know not every day is rosy and filled with rainbows and butterflies, but most people generally do get a fuzzy feeling inside when they help someone out. I know I do, and as a high school educator, it’s my job so I get to help people while getting paid — not too shabby.

On a final (fishy) note if you made it this far, the fishing has been solid the few times I’ve been out this month, but watch those water temps. I don’t fish if the water is above 65 degrees, which has been the case after school on my home river. I did hit the Fryingpan last weekend and once I found an open spot/parked my truck, I felt the breeze and heard/saw hoppers of various sizes buzzing about. I didn’t throw a nymph rig all day.

Enjoy “early fall” because September is just around the river bend.