6 Kids, 6 Days - Part 2

The Fishing Trip





"That the BIGGEST fish I ever saw!" Jack is shouting. His fish swallowed the hook. The other children, clutching their catch run up and down the river bank. Even Jane is bare-handed holding a little squirmer, slime and all. Thanks, Huck Finn. It's a first ever fishing trip for two of our boys.





The kids hold up their fish for us to admire. This after reassurance that they don't bite. Craig puts his index finger in the fish's mouth. Everyone laughs and tries it. I notice the boys' small hands. Eight years old. Only three short years more than Jane. I wonder where the boys were born and who cared for them. I wonder who released them to America.





Thanks to Gramma's fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and apple pie, we finish fishing with full bellies and wide smiles. Ain't nothin' can touch the hospitality on the farm.

Huckleberry Finn

Children, meet your father, Huckleberry Finn.

























He cut the pole from a tree and dug the worms.


















So, I guess that make me, Mark Twain...?


















Hold on, let me thread this worm... don't pull yet.


























Wait for it... Wait for it...

























Wait for it... NOW!


















It a lunker.


















That was so easy I can do it too, Daddy... you just hold the pole.

























Let's give it a good YANK.

























I knew we could snag one!


















Guess the rest of the fish are safe for now.

:)

Fish Watch Day 125

Yes, STILL alive.



Fish Watch Part 1

Fish Watch Part 2

Sunday Blues

We flushed goldfish number one. Did anyone else know that they are cannibals? Either that or it was just a really wild game of tag. And, then little Timmy Tiptoes got tired and took a super long nap at the bottom of the fish vase. The other guy kept giving him kisses that left little bite marks. Craig grabbed the dead one out with his bare hands and hello, toilet!




















I guess Jack won't be chiming, "I wuv you, fish. I wuv you, fish..." every half-hour for long. I can't imagine Mr. Mean Fishie will outlast our life time supply of fish flakes.














Lulu never was too impressed with the goldies.

Sunday Blues

Well, our family has expanded again. The newest members arrived a week ago Friday at the church Fall Festival. Not twins, though strikingly identical: generic goldfish. Jane and Jack received small orange, and quite ugly goldfish on our way out of the festival. Yes, the children love these little fishies with all their hearts.

On the way home we made some stops and completely forgot about the fish. We left the little buggers in our vehicle for a full week, until their bags began to leak all over. No kidding, the fish were still alive and doing fine, wonderful, no swimming on their sides or back floating. I still pitched the big-fishie-bowl-in-the-sky idea, but Craig brought 'em in and gave them my giant hurricane vase. Oh man! Old softie. Well, I guess if you are going to try and like something it is a good idea to place it in a giant hurricane vase.

~~~

At lunch, I did break down and give the little orangies a sandwich crumb which they very ungratefully would not eat. Jack tried dripping a little cereal milk in at breakfast the next day.

After a week of dieting they remained on hunger strike, so we broke down and splurged on a lifetime (we hope) supply of food for $1.99.