Flying Ties

Hopefully one day, my sons will forgive me for my sometimes silly way of saying things.  I meant to say that I was tying flies, but it came out as “flying ties.”

I don’t mind “flying ties” at all – but sometimes, isn’t it frustrating when you’ve got all the materials in the world, it seems, but just not the right colour or size for the fly (or tie) you’re trying to tie (or fly)?

I’ll never be a production fly tyer – but what I do tie, catches fish.  They aren’t pretty either – and maybe if they were prettier, or more exact, they’d catch even more fish.  I dunno.  Sometimes, I’ve used the most ugliest and brutally tied flies, because that was all I had at the time – and caught fish.  Sometimes, I’ve caught nothing.

This evening, I spent a few hours tying up a couple of dozen flies.  For someone that makes their living from tying flies, a couple of dozen in a few hours would be a horrendous number for productivity sake.  But….

I had something else – that even a production fly tier couldn’t have – and that was a four year old son, sitting beside me, telling me how much he loved me, while we both tied up horrendous looking flies together, but the”wee man” pronounced each and everyone of them as “looking like bugs.”

Whether the fish will agree with the “wee man,” I don’t know.  But regardless, the “wee man” helped me trim and tie, and sat up beside me at my desk – the same desk I use for work which is now covered with fur and feathers, and boxes of hooks, and proclaimed that it was “cozy” for both he and I to sit together they way we were sitting.

After each fly was completed, I got a “I love you, Daddy” hug, and we’d try another one.  Even if the flies don’t catch fish, the time spent and the “I love you, Daddy’s” will more than make up for it.