![\"Le](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/lemouching.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/11\/Le-mouching-fly-fishing-picasso.jpg?resize=350%2C423&ssl=1\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
And I saw her; a little girl with a fishing rod whose line was caught in the top of a tree.<\/p>\n
It’s known that I’m the tender heart of the artichoke, as well as being a cheap Ivanhoe, when I find others in pain (especially in children and ESPECIALLY in young girls) I can’t stop myself from flying to their rescue!\u00a0 And that’s what I did.<\/p>\n
“I caught my spoon in the tree and I can’t get it out.” whimpered the child swallowing her tears.<\/p>\n
“Don’t worry, my sweet child I’ll get your spoon back. Just stay here and watch me.” In spite of my almost 70 years, my vertebrae in chewing-gum and arthritis in my shoulders, I started to climb the stupid tree to detach the dumb spoon; to return the smile to the little girl in tears.<\/p>\n
O.K. I know. I don’t pretend to be Tarzan or even Cheetah, his proud chimpanzee, but little by little I got to the bloody spoon and managed to detach it and let it fall to the feet of the sad child\u2026 who rushed off without a word of thanks. (That should teach me!) Climbing a tree may not be the most difficult of endeavors, but descending it without breaking a bone is another kettle of fish, especially when the branch where I set my food suddenly gave way beneath my considerable weight.<\/p>\n
Vainly I tried to hang on to the rough trunk, without success; in slow motion I tumbled down into the brush of nettles and brambles.\u00a0 When I finally extricated myself, I was unrecognizable; my shorts, an old relic from Decathlon, were hanging on to my hips by a thread, only a conglomerate of shredded fabric hid, barely, my glorious anatomy.<\/p>\n
Under these conditions my fishing day was over. I jumped on my motorcycle and headed home.<\/p>\n
My gas tank was almost on empty, so I stopped at the village of Grospierres and when I entered the garage to pay Corinne, the cashier, she couldn’t help staring at my accoutrement and stifling her laughter.<\/p>\n
“My poor sir\u2026 What happened to you to get you in this state?”![\"Le](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/lemouching.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/11\/Le-mouching-fly-fishing-gueule-cass%C3%A9e.jpg?resize=450%2C537&ssl=1\")
<\/p>\n
So, I told her the whole story and I had to listen to her guffaws, which I could hear even after I quit the garage and passed the round-point on D104.<\/p>\n
When I took the left that heads toward the village of Beaulieu I saw them hiding, as usual, behind an embankment. The two cops, like Laurel and Hardy of Ardeche. The skinny one signaled me to stop.<\/p>\n
“Your papers, please.”<\/p>\n
When I bent over to search the saddlebag for my damned papers, Laurel noticed that I was almost nude.<\/p>\n
“What is the meaning of this indecent outfit? Do you know that I could pull you in for indecent exposure?”<\/p>\n
So, then I told him the whole story; after trying to stifle his guffaws he pulled himself together and became serious.<\/p>\n
“Then, you’re a fly fisherman? That’s strange, so am I, imagine that!”<\/p>\n
And like two old friends, there we were at the side of the road, exchanging little secrets of fabricating our favorite flies. Very strange, never before this very instant would I have dared to imagine talking to a cop! Just goes to show that fly fishing offers multitudes of unknown surprises. When I left him, he had even forgotten to verify my identity papers and gave me a big salute as though we were childhood friends.<\/p>\n
My arrival at the house was equally theatrical. First, on seeing me my wife couldn’t suppress a cry of terror: “My poor darling, what happened to you?”<\/p>\n
So I repeated the story (for the third time!!), my sad story. My wife burst out laughing and couldn’t stop herself. And when my she laughs, my wife becomes a real beauty queen and I always have a hard time stopping myself from jumping on her.<\/p>\n
“My poor darling, if you had chosen ping-pong instead of fishing, we wouldn’t laugh as much or as often!” And as she unhooked her bra, she giggled: “and life would be much less sexy!”<\/p>\n
And what followed proves that she was perfectly right.
\n![\"Le](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/lemouching.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/11\/Le-mouching-fly-fishing-TARZAN.jpg?resize=750%2C771&ssl=1\")
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
And I saw her; a little girl with a fishing rod whose line was caught in the top of a tree. It’s known that I’m the tender heart of the artichoke, as well as being a cheap Ivanhoe, when I find others in pain (especially in children and ESPECIALLY in young girls) I can’t stop myself from flying to their rescue!\u00a0 And that’s what I did. “I caught my spoon in the tree and I can’t get it out.” whimpered […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[15854,15851],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-83085","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-el-mouching","category-fresh"],"yoast_head":"\n