snakes and snails and puppy dog tails

I had serious doubts about a fishing endeavor this week.  I envisioned a tangled birds nest in a pole, a fish who swallowed a hook, a baby leaning too close to the water all in unison, and each time this little picture entered my mind I sucked in my breath and said no.  Nope.  That is way too much, way too scary, and way too dangerous.

But their little twinkly eyes gathered up my courage, while they gathered up big, fat, juicy earthworms.  And I went for it, and it wasn’t bad.  Not one bit.

Saying yes to these little boy adventures is sometimes out of my comfort zone.  I have to adjust my way of thinking.  Damn building?  I suppose.  Trap making? I don’t see why not.  Constructing a crane from the top of a tall tree?  Oy… ok….  You see, it’s just not what I am use to.  But they crave it the way I crave coffee.  It is kind of not a choice anyways.  It’s a ritual to be followed with precision.


For those curious, the record ended up – one sucker fish caught, at least a dozen snags and tangles unwound, no one got (too) wet, and many strawberries were consumed.  All in all the day was a fine one.

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