I worked off midnights this morning, came home and made breakfast for the troops. Then Drennon (the grandson) and I went out and dug up a coffee can full of worms. We were going fishing!
Chane, Drennon, and I loaded up and went to my parents' farm and spent all day fishing in the stock pond. It's full of bream, most of them small, but as soon as you toss a hook in the bobber (or cork for you Yankees) will take off. Kids don't care how big the fish is as long as they catch a lot of them. We stopped counting at 50 something and that's just the ones that Drennon caught.
No fish were harmed in this story, all were caught and released but I'm afraid that none of the worms survived.
What is it with worms and little boys? Why do they always love creepy crawly things?
Drennon shows how to cast. That's my niece Brittany in the background.
We made Brittany bait her own hook. She was "Yuck! Worm Guts" but she wanted to fish bad enough to tough it out. "If you're old enough to fish, you're old enough to bait your own hook and take the fish off the line by yourself", one of my Mom's favorite quotes .
Reel it in boy! Don't let it get away! Looks like Drennon hooked a monster, or at least a guppy.
Drennon & Brittany show off some of the day's catch.
This Quinn, my nephew, on the left, and my sister Teresa, his mother, on the right.
Don't you just love the pose here! Drennon insisted on wearing those clunky rubber boots. I don't see how he kept from burning up, it was 87 degrees today.
Nothing beats a little quality Father & Son time. I grew up fishing with my Mom and sisters. Some of my best memories are of her sitting on the bank watching a bobber while we talked about anything and everything. I hope that we're building memories that turn out half as good for Drennon to think back on once he's grown.
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