When the wind blows, the dust gets in my eyes. When the wind blows, I don’t want to go outside.
But then the sun shines and I grab my rod and reel. For when the sun shines, I think “Oh, what a deal!”
When the wind blows while the sun shines, that’s when it gets so tricky … when the casts fly, the bobbers bob and the lines get oh, so icky.
It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon when I heard a knock at my back door.
There stood a couple of the neighbor kids, wanting to do something fun. I don’t know why, but they come to my house for inspiration.
That’s the best part about living in town … the best part about living in a neighborhood with lots of kids. They needn’t beg to get me to put down my book or my needlework for a little outdoor fun.
I knew it was a bit windy, but when I mentioned to the girls that I had a couple of containers of worms in the fridge to use up, they were all excited about going fishing.
They ran next door to get a friend, and we were soon packing up four fishing poles, two tackle boxes, a cooler and a net.
We drove to a spot on Lake Okabena, and that was when the laughter began.
Little did I know I was going to have a trio of girls who screamed and shuddered trying to do the simplest of tasks — to put a squirmy worm on an itty bitty fish hook.
Needless to say, my line was the first in the water.
That was fine and dandy. The tricky part came when the three girls cast their lines into the wavy waters of Lake Okabena from the same dock.
Before long, it was “Her bobber is too close to my bobber!” and “You hooked my line!”
Then there were my silent comments … “Dear Lord, grant me patience!”
Never was I so happy to hear the words, “I don’t want to fish anymore!”
The trouble was, while the girls tired quickly of battling the wind and the waves with their rods and reels, they weren’t quite ready to call it a day.
Someone, I think it was Maria, asked if we could go back to my house and bake up some brownies.
It doesn’t need saying, but I’ll say it anyway … the best part about baking brownies is eating brownies, and the girls could hardly wait the 27 minutes for the ooey gooey chocolate goodness to be pulled from the oven.
As if on cue, the one girl’s older brother showed up just minutes before the timer sounded; and within minutes after that, more than half a pan of hot and tasty brownies had been devoured.
Had I not put a stop to it, the whole pan would have been gone and I would have sent four kids home on a massive sugar high.
Come to think of it, that’s another good thing about living in my neighborhood. The kids can come over to play board games, yard games, go four-wheeling or fishing, and at the end of the day I can send them back home.
Those moments are a reminder to take a little extra pleasure in my quiet house and the time I have to read a good book or complete a few more stitches on my latest needlework project.
