Ugh ! Been Sooo Busy ...

Caught him yesterday evening on a small pole with a tiny lure ~ who's your fisherman, baby?

Can I get a "Ohhh yeah!" ?

You can also get an idea how excited I was by this if you'd like to see the very short video clip below:

We had houseguests last week and everyone had a great time ... I'll be starting my blogging rounds again after today's local company leaves.

Today, I'll be showing a little toddler boy from Kansas just what hungry painted turtles look like when you're standing on a dock holding a piece of orange cheese. These are the types of lessons all small children should learn.

Have a fun day and thanks for looking in!

"Hell, if I'd jumped on all the dames I'm supposed to have jumped on, I'd have no time to go fishing" ... Clark Gable

Dad's Can Be Amazing!

I chose my title carefully because some men who father a child (children) ... just shouldn't (thus, the "can be"). Leaving all that mess aside though - this IS a day we set aside to honor those who do the right thing ... who step up and earn the title dad.

Meet A.E.W. "Andrew" "Andy" "Daddy"

MY DAD

He tired of this earth last summer - almost eleven months ago - and moved on to bigger and better things. For the past nine years or so, we had been rather estranged from one another ... but I will ALWAYS hold him in high regard and will ALWAYS miss him. He was a very fine and good man who ~ mostly ~ did all the right things for his family.

Happy Father's Day to all my blogging friends who have earned the title "dad" ...

"My father taught me to work; he did not teach me to love it. I never did like to work, and I don't deny it. I'd rather read, tell stories, crack jokes, talk, laugh - anything but work” ... Abraham Lincoln

Man, does that ever apply to me.

"I grew up to have my father's looks - my fathers speech patterns - my father's posture - my father's walk - my father's opinions and my mother's contempt for my father"... Jules Feiffer

That one doesn't apply to me, but I thought it was quite comical!

"Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope"... Bill Cosby

Carol's Adventure Series: Chapter One

Hag's Hobby

I really wasn't going to write here - I wanted to just get the photo in place, perhaps cool a few folks off a bit with a watery treat ... but then I realized it merits a post after all. (laughing to self: "As if anything doesn't?" )

I've lived in this location now for eight and a half years. I've been out in boats many times with Mr. Hag and though he has encouraged me to take a ride for myself sometime, I never attempted it until roughly one month ago. Oh my, what a thrill.

I cannot describe the sense of freedom I felt that very first time I dared the trip alone. Remember, I don't swim and have an itsy-baby fear of the water. It's really just a healthy regard for it. How could I fear water? I just fear me ~ IN the water. Still.

As I loosed the rope that was tethering the boat to the dock ... I floated so gently away from shore and drifted through the lily pads, past all my turtle guys and little bluegills... I looked behind me and felt almost giddy. I think I smirked - to no one. Ya ever find yourself doing that?

Anyway, it was an almost windless day and I was truly out on an adventure. I picked up the oar (just one) and sliced it into the mirror-like water dragging back on it till I felt a gentle swoosh. I noticed the shoreline gaining momentum. How cool.

And on that went until I was too far from home to feel a hundred percent comfy anymore. I rowed us back -- me and the dragonfly who perched himself on the other seat -- and tied up at the dock. I stood on the ground again and in spite of the fun time I'd had, I decided this was where my feet really belonged; mother-earth, unmoving ground, backyard lawn - Ohhhh yeah, baby.

Taurus is an earth sign and I remain true to myself, everytime. BUT ... I have also decided that this may be JUST what the doctor ordered when it comes to an exercise ... something I can handle with little upset to my fibromyalgic state ... something that my poor little deteriorating hip can handle and something that is so spiritually uplifting that I can hardly talk about it without getting goosebumps.

I've gone out every clear day since that first daring trip. It's been incredible and since I've taken to bringing my camera with me - there will be video clips of all the wildlife in the future.

(saying the next with much trepidation)

Vicodin? Kiss my ass. I got me a pond and a boat!

Till again ... WH

I Love It ~ I Hate It

Bees: I love that some types make honey and I enjoy watching them flit from flower to flower then zig zag off to another location. I hate when they buzz near my ear and I really hate when they reduce me to a sniveling three year old or force me to spazz-out like Joe Cocker.

Poetry: I love poems that are funny and I love poetry that is rhythmic. I hate poems I can't fully grasp by my third read. If they are too profound or too sappy, I'm usually lost by the second half. I mean, I know there is a place for them - the purpose is just lost on me.I wish I could like poetry better ... most folks act like it's very chic to love poetry or more aptly put, to really GRASP poetry. I've never been accused of being chic.

Art: The same thing applies to art. I love art that is obvious; someone's rendition of a landscape, skyline, people, animals, things I can point to and say in excited tones, "Oooh, look at the neat ____!!" You know? On the other hand, when I stand in a museum in front of a piece that makes me tilt my head in more than one direction... or squint, or scratch my temple ... it just doesn't move me. Again, I realize how chic or "gifted" it is to admire all works of art ... I just can't join that particular club.

Crawly Critters: I love to watch educational nature shows that feature in-your-face close-ups of insects, bugs, spiders ... in fact, the closer up the better. I love learning how and what they eat and how and when they reproduce. I hate the same bugs and whatnot in person -- especially when they get on me or invade my home, car or picnic basket.

Velvet: I love the look of it - so rich and luxurious. I hate the feel of it; I touch velvet and cringe... you know that fingernail down a chalkboard reaction in your spine? That's me when I run my hand across something made of velvet. Crushed velvet is a little better.

Since I turned to material:

Satin: I love the look AND feel of satin. I just hate that it makes me sweat -- profusely. I had two satin blouses... real satin ... expensive stuff... I had requested one of them as a Christmas gift long ago ... I wore it twice and gave it to a thrift shop. Nothing spells attractive like a lady with pit-stains. And satin sheets? Oh yes, now there's a sight in the morning. It's one thing to wake up with bedhead; another thing to wake up with sweat head. Again, there's a place for beautiful satin ... but it's just not on me.

Vacations: I love that feeling of packing up to go off somewhere special and see new things... do new things; the ever-loved vacation. I truly hate (and dwell upon) the coming home bit. You know, now that I get this into writing, I realize that it all comes down to work. Now that I'm not working, I'll bet I would really like the idea of coming home again. It was always that nagging "must go back to the grind" that bugged me on my final day of vacation. Okay cancel out this entire entry in your mind. Skip it. [laughs to self, slaps knee]

~~~

That's all I have for now. I'll be back in a few days this time around. I have a couple of things in draft that I started back when my participate button was set to OFF.

In the meantime... if you happened by and got this far, why not share something that you have mixed feelings about?

Thanks for coming over ...

WH

"You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul" ... Julie de Lespinasse