Sunday, September 4, 2011

Drowning worms...

One of the traditions we've started up is every time we go to visit Indiana (which has been a total of two times since we've been married but I'm still calling it a tradition) is going fishing with Scott's dad, John. I am probably the most fortunate wife in the world. I really do have the best in-laws on planet earth. John is one of them. He is so much fun to be around, always ready with a smart remark or a funny story. He's lived in Huntington just about all his life and I love the history he tells in his stories about growing up in Indiana. He loves his kids and him and his wife Renea have shown Scott and I so much kindness and support. I really consider myself lucky marrying into the Winkler family.

Enough cheese, the fishing is what I've decided to document about here. Scott used to take me fishing when we were dating quite a bit, most of the time because I would beg him to take me. So when we got married John would take the both of us- we go to private ponds in Indiana mostly because neither Scott or I have a fishing license. (Private ponds are really popular there- for those non-hoosiers reading this). We always have a great time together- John and Scott bate my hook and take the fish off when I've caught something, although I did do it by myself once. So I'm pretty spoiled.

There he stands, draped in more equipment than a telephone lineman, trying to outwit an organism with a brain no bigger than a breadcrumb, and getting licked in the process.  ~Paul O'Neil, 1965

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