Last Sunday, coffee and camera in hand, I caught my oldest son David trying to catch a fish.
He said he almost had one. Where have I heard that before?
A small cedar four-plex looks at home on Dave’s cedar railing.
More trips to Fenelon are planned, to help when the twins arrive in September.
My son won’t be fishing then. Enjoy it while you can, son.
***
I’m not a fisherman. Are you?
I prefer my workshop. Another four-plex is needed.
.
4 comments:
Nope. Can't deal with bait thing. Twins, eh? Sounds fun!
Can't handle the bait either . . .
but I like your photos!
;-)
SIMPLY SNICKERS – weekly poetry prompts
Hi Kathleen,
The bait thing is objectionable to me in some ways, but I've managed to grit my teeth and bear it for the sake of my grandson. Lures - I can handle.
Cheers,
Gord
Hi Linda,
Thanks for visiting It Strikes. I think we crossed paths at your poetry site.
I've been archiving lyrics and prose at another spot myself - http://hitsinglesbygharrison.blogspot.com/
I'll get back.
Cheers,
GAH
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