Wednesday, August 15, 2007 11:44 am
The Husband was very sweet and got the kids breakfast so that I could “sleep in” – til 8:30. We’ve mostly just been bumming around here this morning – the kids are building things with an old box of dominos they found, I walked around taking pictures, we dropped by Bubbe and Pops’ cabin, etc.
At their cabin, Pops showed an entry from the guestbook left in their cabin. The children were delighted to see that the author of Hank the Cowdog and his wife had stayed there and signed the book. Even included a drawing mocking the ballsy hummingbirds.
The Husband is out rigging up our rods a little differently, so that the weights can drop down to the bottom while the hook floats – hopefully this will decrease getting hung so often.
Okay, I have to give a little bit of history about us and fishing. Despite growing up in a coastal town, The Husband didn’t fish when he was young. Just not something his family did. I, on the other hand, grew up fishing at least a couple of times a month. All of our vacations were structured around fishing – out with my dad’s inboard/outboard, in lakes, in streams and rivers. We did so much, in fact, that like many petulant kids, I didn’t appreciate it. Getting up before dawn – ugh! But I had A Gift. Used to make my parents so mad. Heck, get them telling stories and they’ll still get mad. Like the time we were on the boat and my parents were carefully fishing on the land side – since that’s generally where the fish are. I had no interest in getting hung up, so I just tossed mine out into the wide open water. “LE, they won’t be out there,” my father explained. SNAP! My rod bent double and I brought in a big bass. After catching a few more, I was tired of it. I dropped my line over the edge of the boat, the worm dangling a few inches from the water. My parents will swear on their very lives that a big ole bass came up, jumped out of the water and hooked himself.
Well, times change. I grew up and apparently lost the gift, because I haven’t been able to catch a cold with a dirty handkerchief. The Husband, meanwhile, married me and discovered that he loved fish, he loved fishing, he loved it all. He learns from my dad and has a ball. In recent years, I’ve begun fishing again, such as I can with a passel of kids.
There’s only one thing … you know how reformed dieters are? Well, new fishermen are similar.
All I’m saying … if The Husband tries to advise me again about how to fish, as if I didn’t grow up with a fishing pole in one hand, I’m pushing him in, I swear it.
Dinner tonight: The Husband grilled fajita meat and we made “TH’s nachos: corn chips, beans, cheese, fajita meat, and sour cream, guacamole and jalapeno, garnished as you wish.
It was cold, so we ate inside. This cabin has two fireplaces – one in the living room and one in the dining room. I saw that a fire was already laid in the dining room, so The Husband set it to blazing. A dining room fire – terribly romantic and old timey, isn’t it?
At dinner, I made a toast – This is to my children: when they are adults, may they have as much fun with us as I do with my parents. It was not flattery. They can drive me crazy – what parents can’t? – but I have a blast with them.
The fire burnt down to embers and so we made s’mores for the kids. Gooey smiles all around.