Broken-down boat does not make a happy husband -- or fishing widow

The husband's fishing boat is down. Again. Seems as if it just got out of the shop. As you other fishing widows know, a boat that is grounded makes for a very unhappy fisherman. And his wife.
The fisherman usually doesn't know his boat is broken until he is ready to use it. Sometimes, he doesn't notice the problem until he actually launches it. This is a problem on multiple levels. He most likely has spent the previous night preparing for his fishing adventure with lures spread out all over the kitchen floor and fishing rods that need new reels. He is highly anticipating the day on the water. It is painful to see a grown man so disappointed when he gets all ready to go fishing, only to find his boat doesn't work.

If he doesn't notice the problem until he is already on the dock ready to launch or has already launched, then he usually calls the fishing widow to come rescue him. Luckily, that has never happened to me. We also have never had to bother the Coast Guard with a rescue. I guess that would be another blog topic.

The time between the fisherman takes his boat to the repair shop and when he gets it back is pure torture. For days, he just kind of sits outside with a strange look on his face and stares at the spot where his boat is supposed to be. He wanders aimlessly out to the utility room where his fishing rods and equipment are, only to just wanter aimlessly back in the house. After a day, he just sits in the house and sighs. Or he monitors the Weather Channel and comments on how great the boating weather is and how he should be out on the water. After two days, he calls the boat repair shop. He will continue calling said repair shop until they finally get his boat fixed and in working order.

During this time, he drives the fishing widow (or spouse) crazy. It's as if he has nothing else to do but fish. When he can't do that, he mopes. A lot. The fishing widow prays for the repair shop to finish quickly, and then makes a mental note to herself to check online programs on how to make boating repairs herself.

Freezing while trying to be supportive of your Florida hunter

I'm from New York, where it gets very cold. I've even spent time upstate, where it gets very, very cold. But I've found that since I've lived in Florida, my blood has become very thin. I can't take the cold the way I could up in New York. Although, maybe I can. I never went camping in New York.

Hunting season in Florida is very strange.  It starts around August, when grown men (and some women) get themselves sit in the hot woods with archery bows. I've been out driving around in the woods (which my husband calls scouting) in the August heat without air conditioning. Let me tell you, it's brutal.

But it's not as bad as in January and Florida experiences an unusual cold spell. And your Florida hunting significant other camps in a tent. Brrrrrr.

It's been cold in this state, which made me think of the time the hubby took me on my first camping trip in January. I had been camping with him before, and it wasn't so bad. I never understood why he packed so many clothes and heavy coats. It was Florida, after all. That January, I finally understood.

The temperature had dropped to the teens. In a tent, there aren't many ways you can stay warm. You have to pile on layers of sweat pants and sweaters and crawl into a sleeping bag with another couple of blankets on top of you. Yes, I am a spoiled American woman. I don't like the cold. And for those who think this sounds romantic -- I assure you, it is not.

I couldn't sleep that night. Every time I moved, another part of my body froze. So I tossed and turned hoping I would generate enough heat to keep me warm. That's when I felt something cold and wet rub against my hand. It was my husband's Rottweiler.

My husband had owned this dog for years before I came along. I was scared to death of it. She had slowly become used to me, but only after I kept feeding her treats. Now, this poor dog was trying to make friends. Not because she liked me any better, but because she was cold and wanted to come into the sleeping bag with me.

There wasn't enough room for me and the dog. And, truth be told, I didn't really relish the idea of letting the tempermental dog into my sleeping bag if she was going to growl at me if I accidentally rolled over on her during the night. So, I compromised.

I lured the animal over with a piece of cookie or treat -- a major big deal, since my husband didn't allow food in the tent. He was too afraid the food would attract bugs. When she lay down to eat, I took my husband's warm coveralls and laid it over the dog. I found a blanket and some towels to keep the dog warm. The dog looked up at me and finally stopped shivering. I think she smiled at me for the first time.

"Sleep well," I whispered. "Now, you will be warm."

My husband turned over at the sounds of my voice.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Covering the dog. She was shivering, and tried to get in bed with me," I explained.

"Oh," he mumbled. "Thanks."

We survived the night somehow, and the rest of the nights seemed warmer after that. My husband bought some battery-operated heaters for the next camping trip, so we would never be that cold again.

But it wasn't all bad. The dog became my fast friend. Seems she never forgot that small bit of kindness. From that point on, she always stuck by my side, even growling at my husband if she thought he was hurting me when he tickled me.

So ladies, remember, if your significant other wants to go hunting in January, always check the weather. Even if you're in Florida, where it's supposed to be sunny all year round. It gets cold here. Bring plenty of  blankets. Better yet, make hotel reservations!