Two years ago for our anniversary my husband and I planned a trip to northern Michigan. If you stay away from Detroit, most of Michigan is really beautiful and undeveloped, an outdoor lover’s paradise. Our long weekend together would consist of hiking, sight seeing and snuggling by the fire. I decided to surprise him with fly fishing lessons with a private guide in the area where we were staying.
At quarter till seven the morning of our lessons, we were having coffee in our car in the park where I had arranged to meet our guide Scotty. The morning was clear and frosty. We were a little early, not quite fully awake, hadn’t spoken much yet, but were enjoying the anticipation of the day. Our plans with Scotty were 4 hours of fishing and casting lessons at a private location, but the park where we were waiting for him seemed pretty popular for fishing too. There are a lot of guys in hip boots with pocket-y vests and such wandering about. (By the way the picture to the left here is from that morning and if you click on it you'll see just how beautiful and misty it really was)
MDH: How will we recognize our guide?
Me: When I talked to him last week he said he’d be wearing a black blazer. I should think he’ll stand out in this crowd.
MDH: Did he say that he’d be wearing a black blazer or in a black blazer – like the car?
I am mortified.
I flash back to my conversation with Scotty the week before to firm up our plans.
Scotty: Meet me in Boyne City Park by the slips at 7am. I’ll be in a black blazer.
Me: I’m not sure what we’ll be wearing.