Summer isn't even here and Frischkorn is already looking to autumn

I hate hot weather.

Okay, so "hate" is too strong a word. Intensely dislike is better and more diplomatic.

Regardless, the new minting of 80- and 90-degree-plus days is distressing, though I'm not one to wish my days away.

Fact is, however, my thoughts have moved forward to September - and beyond. That is when we'll experience warmish daylight hours and cool night-time conditions.

Long gone will be the deer flies - called "sweat flies" when I was a kid. So too will vanish most of the mosquitoes and all of the horseflies, whose "bite" is worse than that from a bee or a yellow-jacket wasp.

I'm looking forward to the dove hunts and the trips in search of Canada geese during the state's early season.

The perch fishing will have recovered by then and once the kids get back to their book learning.

I'll dust off the crossbow, get another game feeder assembled and planted and inspect my goose calls.

By then too I'll have laid claim to a springer spaniel puppy. Yep, I'm detouring away from owning Labrador retrievers in favor of a different game-finding and game-retrieving breed. It wil likely be my last bird dog. I'm getting a bit gray and barren on top to tke in much more than one new bird dog.

Along the way I'm asking my five grandchildren to help with the naming of the not-yet-born springer. Their so-far recommendations range from possibles to getting a chuckle from their grandfather.

I'll narrow down the field to five or so prospects and then announce we'll conduct a democratic (small "d") vote.

Still I guess summer isn't a total bust. I'll catch up on some sighting-in of shotguns and rifles, play around with new loads for my muzzle-loader and try out some new bass-fishing lures that I've bought.

But while I am a better angler than I am a shooter I prefer hunting to fishing. Don't ask why; it just is, that's all.

Regardless, this week's humid and hot conditions are doing nothing for my nerves nor my pleasantness. As such my mind if focused three months down the road while my feet are ever so slowly walking their way through summer and I'm applying greasy sun blocker and sticky insect repellent.

Yuck, but I still try and not wish away three months of my aging life.

- Jeff Frischkorn
JFrischkorn@News-Herald.com