There’s nothing like fly fishing that I made

There’s nothing like fly fishing that I made

I can’t really remember how old I was when I discovered my dad’s fly tying bench. It was actually Grandpa Rideout’s huge desk from his railway office.

But the large drawers now contain old cigar boxes stuffed with every size, shape and color of feathers imaginable. Every envelope slot, little drawer, nook and cranny was filled with hooks, string, thread, yarn, tinsel, paint, vertical cement bottles, and lots of fasteners.

From time to time I would watch my father making colorful creations, but he soon got bored and went off to do kid things. The whole family realized that the office was off-limits unless Dad was on hand.

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