Springtime is my favorite time of the year in Texas, because not only is the weather not frigid cold anymore, but it's not hot as hell either. Another reason I love Texas springtime weather is because of the spring showers...and especially the ones with the torrential rain and lightening. Yes, if I could be a storm chaser I would. Like Steve Irwin was called to jump on crocodiles, I was called to chase tornadoes.
Which is why I was majorly bummed when we drove to Utah last year and missed the tornado that ripped through our town and blew my fence down and my neighbor's roof off.
But this post is not about my death wish. Nor is it about how I just discovered that Bob Marley sings I Shot the Sheriff until yesterday evening. Dude, I had only heard the Eric Clapton version and may I say that I laughed out loud listening to Bob Marley sing that song? I laughed even louder when I discovered a rapper named Warren G had rapped it.
However, this post is not about shooting sheriffs either. Or even songs.
Come to think of it, I am not even sure what this post is about anymore. What I was supposed to be writing about was one of my favorite things to do in the springtime is fishing. Oh yah.
So, I love to go fishing. When I was a little girl, I used to run to the Tisdale's pond and fish in it with my twin brother and sister while my mother took care of the older couple that lived on the ranch. Out in the Hill Country of Texas among the trees and limestone cliffs, I felt a special connection to something real.
My husband and I have always tried to involve our children in the outdoors since they were little by going camping, hiking, or participating in local events. One of these events is KidFish where you guessed it--kids fish. My oldest has been begging to go fishing for a month, so when I discovered KidFish was being held again, I grabbed my boys and took them to the event.
Let me just say that dragging along three young boys was almost more than I could handle. First, there was the moaning and groaning and gnashing of teeth over the stink bait. Secondly, my oldest nearly hooked some dude's face because he was being impatient. Third, my boys had to use the restroom about a bazilllion times while we were fishing which meant they had to walk to the other side of the pond to use the port-o-potties. Mind you that my husband was working so he could not help me.
We lasted just under an hour.
When I had enough, I counted the kids and told them it was time to go home.
But not before I got them all free Italian ice.
And at least one a brain freeze.
You know, I did not get one photograph with my boys fishing. Sure, I got plenty of other random kids with their fish:
But not one with mine.
Oh well, I was too busy trying to keep my youngest from kicking the ducks and dropping his drawers.
Maybe next time.
But not without the hubs.