In way deep...
I was reminded earlier this week of a crazy adventure that I had when I was teaching in Darwin. As you know I’m not a fan of fishing. Why you ask? Well growing up I was given a choice by my parents – I could either go fishing with my father on Sunday mornings or go to church. You guessed it - I chose fishing…a heathen by any other name! However, it wasn't long before I came to really dislike fishing. I think it may have had something to do with the extraordinarily early mornings (we always left the house at 6:15 am sharp), or perhaps it was the biting cold of the early morning riverbank, lakeshore or dam that I was destined to be stuck on for the next four or five hours, possibly even the smell of fish guts or complete boredom that engulfed me as I waited patiently for a fish to take my bait. All I know is that it was just too much to handle but what could I do…go to church? I had no appetite for that either, s...