The Sportsman's Corner

Late one evening I was slouched on the lazy-boy in my fly-tying room, reading one of the novels I have spent much of my time with since retiring. After all, television programming is so putrid that reading nearly anything is a better way to put in an evening than watching TV.

I was relaxed when Donna opened the door. As she walked in, several magazines and some pamphlets that had been sitting on top of one of my bookcases crashed to the floor at her feet.

"Good lord, Rich," she scowled. "This room is a disgrace. You have books piled upon books. You have papers and files strewn all over the...