I was a fishing "widow" for years before ill health forced my OH to give it up. I wrote this little poem many years ago.
Its hello to the course fishing season,
and goodbye to the men in my life.
Whatever the weather
they're off fishing together.
Oh, who'd be a fishermans wife!
And who'd be a fishermans mother,
for he's just as bad as his Dad.
He comes home from school.
Grabs rod, reel and spool
And its "see you at suppertime lad,"
I hope it amuses you.