Opinion

I mentioned the era of steamboats and river transportation here recently. It was an important and to me somewhat romantic time in our history.

Reverend William (Bill) Bailey, a Methodist minister, turned a physical ailment into a thriving health resort, but more importantly established a family tradition that has lasted for almost 200 years. A popular song, “Won’t You Come Home Bill Bailey” was even written and published in 1902, but come to find out, was written for a different “Bill” Bailey and for a different reason. More on that later.

I was cutting out past columns and laminating them earlier today. My Momma still puts my treasures up on her refrigerator, so I was helping her out by organizing them in a nice neat little book. I read over them, and I stopped for a moment and thought wow, I have failed in so many ways. I am not always a nice person. I don’t take time to smell roses. And the biggest one- I have failed in making sainthood. Not that I ever though I would be called, Saint Pat, but I recently picked up a book called, “Flunking Sainthood: A year of Breaking Sabbath, Forgetting to Pray, and Still Loving my Neighbor,” by Jana Riess. This book spoke to my soul.

Reading a river fishing story on the Internet has caused me to reflect on the historic and cultural significance of Fourche River. The writer regarded the Tennessee stream as his family’s ancestral river as I do the Fourche.

The movie quote is “It’s not gambling if you know you’re going to win.” Sadly, it’s not that simple but we can still look for similarities and differences to better understand both sides. What makes one opportunity a foolish gamble and another a wise investment? Many times, the separating the two is ever so thin. Is one inherently good and the other inherently bad? Are they both matters of personal preference? Let’s find out.

It was a Valentines weekend get away, another couple and us, sweethearts still young enough, well still young enough! It had been a long day, and then a long drive to Branson, I wasn’t feeling so good when we got there. We had rooms rented at The Victorian Hotel it had been real nice, as we entered there was a sweeping staircase up to the second story, a Baby Grand Piano off to the right side and a beautiful Chandelier (just in case, there was any swinging to be done) hung from the second story ceiling. We got rooms with Romeo and Juliet balconies, just big enough for two, oh where for art thou my Romeo! We were up on the third floor, and soon all settled in, we’d all met back in the lobby. Hungry we went out to have a lovely Valentine Dinner with talk of sweet days gone by, these guys could after all be romantic! We had enjoyed all the sight seeing and lights and we were soon back to the hotel, and off to our rooms, but not before they said I felt warm and they could feel me shaking when they laid their hands on my arm, overly tired was my self diagnosis, nothing sleep wouldn’t cure, for there had been a big day full of fun planned for tomorrow! I chose my side of the bed and then My Valentine’s big surprise had been slipped into the bedside table drawer, while Red was gone to the bathroom. We literately fell into bed, he asked me how I was feeling, then took my hand, for we had always held hands going to sleep each night (which lasted for many years and still) his head would scarcely hit the pillow before he was fast asleep, asleep and snoring! In earlier days I would beg him to let me go to sleep before him, because with his snoring, for me sleep became a hard place to drift off too. When the snoring began in earnest, it was safe to proceed with his special surprise, quietly I slipped them from the drawer, opening the plastic bag I quickly sprinkled the whole contents across Red, me and the bed, barley able to hold in the laughter choking it back. Then with visions of what Red would think floating through my mind I finally drifted off to sleep. Sometime in the wee hours, Red awoke and he said he laid his hand on my thigh, feeling something he’d ran his hand down the length of my leg, knowing that I hadn’t felt good, he just knew I had broke out with something all over, now at this point I am still dead to the world, YET! Quickly he’d jumped out of bed throwing the covers back and ran to turn on the light, I am awake now! What are you doing you crazy thing you, I ask looking at him through bleary eyes? I just reached over and touched your leg and thought you were all broke out with something, bewildered his eyes now spirals sees all those hearts, confetti hearts in three sizes in shades of reds and pinks even. Happy Valentines Day I tell him, he stands there a few minutes taking the whole thing in, then leaves a happy trail of red and pink hearts all the way into the bathroom! I collapsed back into sleep, morning came way too early for sure, there were hearts sparkling in the sunlight where the sun had crept into our room, to be sure I am a cheap date, I admit it, I love glitter always have, always will! So we get up and take a good look at each other we were broke out in confetti hearts real bad. There was confetti here confetti there confetti in the chair. Confetti, in our hair confetti everywhere, confetti where it is not meant to be. Confetti where we could not reach ourselves! That confetti most definitely had multiplied in the night, we laughed like crazy just looking at us! OK Glitter I knew, confetti well it’s a totally different thing, let me tell you one true thing about confetti it sticks like glue, it embeds in your skin a bit, you can’t just brush if off! We never did quit smiling that morning! Just Like Ticks they had to be picked off one by one! In our case we pulled and picked hearts off of each other! So there we were two grown human beings standing in the middle of a hotel room looking a bit like monkeys, no longer able to keep a straight face, we were at each others mercy, we begin grooming one another, very soon we were laughing out of control even, like idiots if you will. It was a very intense time. Finally each of us we were totally de-hearted, well save for the ones that were beating inside us. Our thoughts then turned to the room strewn with hearts. Umm are they going to bill us with an extra cleaning fee, will the bathtub still drain tomorrow? Oh, my heavenly day, what on earth will the maid think? Just wish that I had taken a picture of it all. In hindsight we should have scooped up a handful of those hearts as souvenirs! Red wasted no time at breakfast, telling this story to our friends. Seemed everyone in ear shot, wore a jealous smile. Happy Valentine Day Y’all!

Brrrrrr Boy is it ever a cold day. The sunshine can sure fool you into thinking it might be a little warmer but it’s not.

Come September-October every year I start getting duck fever. I’ll start checking water levels and reading up on waterfowl migration patterns and maybe even do a little scouting, just to see if any trees have fallen across my favorite holes during the off-season. I’ll start shopping too, as I can’t seem to ever start the season without a piece or two of new gear. As the days roll closer and closer to the Saturday before Thanksgiving, I’ll start getting the itch, just like a 5-year-old counting down the days until Santa Claus comes. Work get’s all but forgotten that last week before season-opener, as I’m too busy watching weather reports and my cellphone is burning up with calls regarding the latest duck activity gossip. On Duck Season Eve, the Friday before opening day, I may PLAN to work until 5:00pm but the ladies I work with all know that if I’m still at the bank past 2:00pm it will be a miracle. And now, with the truck all loaded with gas and gear and shells and food and guns, it’s off to the duck woods. Months and days of planning and discussing and cussing and hoping and nervous and excitement and IT’S FINALLY HERE! And then, in the blink of an eye,

Covid-19 has caused my sweet little 13-year-old to be indoors and away from folks since Thursday. With moments of high fever and a severe headache, she has been handling it like a champ. Since she can’t get out and about, we spent the entire weekend indoors and away from people. I used it as the perfect opportunity to clean my closets and kitchen drawers. I can say, without hesitation, I am a certified pack rat.