When the weather gets nice, we go fishing.
We usually fish at our friend’s house. Since we don’t have a pond, or a lake, or a river, it would be difficult to fish at our place. Our friend has a nice pond filled with fish. It used to be filled with large fish. Then they had their dam rebuilt. Now their pond is filled with mostly baby fish.
Of course, we are aiming for the big ones and we throw back the tiny ones.
Here is my view.
Fishing! It is one of those rare times in my life when I actually get to sit down. When DH comes home from work and says, “You guys want to go fishing?”
“Yes! Oh, Yes! Pick me! Pick me!”
Yea – Fishing!
I like fishing………… but
I don’t touch worms.
I don’t touch fish.
I don’t touch turtles, snakes, globs of pond funk, or anything else that ends up at the end of a fishing line. Yuck.
But, I like sitting, I mean fishing.
My oldest son touches fish and worms.
My youngest daughter touches fish and worms.
My youngest son would like to live with fish and worms.
While I was busy sitting, everyone else caught lots of fish – miniature fish.
Yea! A fish.
Now, DH is the guy to call if you get a fish on the end of your line and don’t want to touch it. He is also the guy to call if you do touch fish, but there’s a hook stuck in the fish’s mouth.
Between the non-fish-touchers and the stuck hooks, DH was busy removing fish from lines.
Which would not have been a big deal – except, he thought it was funny to throw slimy, flapping, yucky fish at his wife……… that would be me.
Flying fish make me squeal and run. Which makes DH smile.
So, I was dodging flapping fish while DH was instructing me to throw them back in the pond so they wouldn’t die.
Someone call PETA.
I don’t touch fish. I can not be held responsible for getting the tiny, flapping, gasping, baby fish back into the pond. Which, DH was throwing at me.
So, I kicked them towards the pond. I don’t think they wanted back in because they would hit the edge of the water and flap back onto the bank.
Stupid fish.
Where we go fishing there is much more than just fish. 
There’s flowers.
There’s goats.
There’s giant puppies.
I want a giant puppy! I hear they don’t smell like Fritos.
There’s lambs!
There’s baby goats!
Wait? Kids are supposed to be born in Feburary in Kentucky? Why are there new-born kids showing up in April?
WELL………. My friend had all the goats (she has lots of goats – over 100) running together. There was a young, male goat, a buckling, who was running with all the ladies. He was too young to be shooting live ammo……..
or so they thought.
April arrived and baby goats were showing up everywhere. I guess the little buckling has been busy.
Baby goats all over the place. So cute!
A giant frog tried to accost me again. To read more of my frog escapades go here.
I am happy to report that I managed to kick all the baby fish back into the pond before they stopped gasping for water (I think).
I like fishing.
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