Like many of my old hunts with dad, I got skunked. But unlike deer or turkeys, who tended to simply ignore the fact they were expected to show up at a certain time/place, the insulators were there, perfectly punctual. If I had to guess, I'd say they'd even arrived early. Size, unfortunately, matters, and the pole I use for spinning insulators free from their pins was a foot or two short, even when I stood on an inverted steel drum. Don't ask. In the end, I had to leave empty handed. To put the morning in the plus column, I hit Waffle House for some scattered and smothered. I'm crazy with the jargon, here.
As for the weekend, I spent most of it physically and psychologically drained. I'm not sure why, really. The week leading up to it was pretty brutal, maybe that was all. Like always, Melissa and I found hilarity at every turn, and that's enough for me.