Oh, the Google searches I'll be getting from that!
I have to admit that I am, indeed, typing away without clothing. This isn't for any lecherous purpose, I assure you; that's as far from my mind as can be.
I took most of a day off from work, and fulfilled a promise to Thing One and Thing Two (eleven and about-to-turn-twelve) that as soon as my big overtime-sucking project was finished I'd take them out fishing. We headed out at five this morning to Hutchinson Lake, on the Columbia National Wildlife Refuge, to try and convince a few fish to join us for dinner. The cool thing about Hutchinson is that although it has a gravel boat launch, gas motors aren't permitted. Well, we have a paddle boat, one of those kind that you can rent at lakeside resorts. With that, the lake belonged to us.
By about three in the afternoon, a mess of bluegill, crappie, and one small largemouth bass also belonged to us. (The first time the three of us got anything at all on our fishing trips, I might add.) And along with those, the sunburn from hell belonged to me as well. I may have been a redneck in theory before, now I'm one in practice as well. And red arms, and red scalp, and red legs (although I still think William Quantrill was a blackguard). In short, I crackle when I walk.
Ah, well. I got to spend some time with Thing One and Thing Two when they (mirabile visu!) weren't bickering, and I got to see each of them haul in their first fish. We also got to see a couple of Sandhill cranes, for which the refuge is justifiably famous. I made some serious dad points today, I tell you what. Alas, it also means that clothing is going to be a miserable thing for a while. When I went in to the office briefly after we got home, I had to do it in sweats. One look at my lobster-raccoon-hybrid face and nobody questioned it. But oh, how I dread tomorrow.
Gotta go slather on some more aloe vera. Having discovered this fishing spot, I now need to take Christina there next week. The couple that lures bluegill from the water together, stays together.
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