The Unimportance of Being Ernesto

Waiting for Ernesto. Nothing there.

Noodling

It is a beautiful day on Bream and great for going about 100 yards out into the lake and "noodling"- that is to say riding astride a styrofoam-like flotation device which is shaped like a giant piece of pasta and spending the better part of an hour gazing up at the sky and hoping a gator d0esn't come along and chomp down on you - or your noodle. No gators today, but just before I took this picture of my wife she had let out a whoop and declared that something had "bit" her. More than likely that something was either a hungry bass nipping at the bright yellow floating ends of her bikini straps or a curious and quite benign turtle. Such are the thrills of noodling in Bream on a lazy August day.