Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Morning Ritual

 Andrew began each morning out on the lake. After waking early, he'd collect a fisherman friend (or two) 
and head to his boat to indulge in one of his favorite, yet sadly neglected, hobbies.

 
Lottie and I peeked our head out of our tent in time to welcome back this fishing crew. I was pleased to see that Henry had made it onto the boat with his Dad that morning. As exciting as an early morning fishing trip is to a four year old, the want of sleep generally prevailed.
It's alright though. Andrew didn't suffer from want of company. Wickman and Maxwell proved faithful companions. Following his return each morning, Andrew usually ended up at the back of the houseboat
to oversee/aid the next generation of Flegal fishermen.
The next hour or so, would bring happy squeals of success as each child took their turn reeling in a fish of their own.

 Eliza is content to let her Dad do the dirty work when it comes to releasing her latest catch.
Henry proudly shows off a blue gill.
Tennessee was thrilled when he caught his first fish! His reaction was adorable.
Sometimes you have to pass the pole to Daddy when you realize the fish might win the game of tug of war.
Here's another beauty Eliza caught.
Sometimes, instead of fish, Andrew would catch a cute baby.

...........................

The 'big boys' were likewise proud to display their own catches.

Side note: 
Andrew slept on top of the house boat with Eliza and Henry.
Lottie and I slept in a tent.
Occasionally, she and I were joined by Henry or Eliza. 
Seven nights void of Andrew left me feeling lonely. 
As for my dearly beloved, don't feel bad for him...

 He had plenty of Lake Powell action. 

You just threw up a little in your mouth, right? 
.....
Well, if that didn't trigger your gag reflex... this might.
Yummy, yummy crawdad.
 
 Henry is brave like his Dad.
 And thankfully, he is smarter. 
He didn't feel that it was wise to put it in his mouth. 
Good choice, buddy.
 
 That crawdad received lots of love from our camp. 

My favorite crawdad memory involves Liz.
Walking back to the houseboat, 
Liz dips her feet into the water bucket to rinse off sand, per usual.
She was totally clueless that the rinse bucket
 was still playing host to the crawdad. 
Thankfully her feet remained unharmed.
The potential horror made us laugh manically
proving that we are genuinely awful people.

One of our first morning's at Lake Powell, 
Andrew, Brent and Mike had a boat load of fishermen success.

 I hear the fish tasted delicious.
As impressed as we were,
Bubba's catch was the most exciting of all.
 A mermaid, in Lake Powell? 
Really?
It was the talk of the town.

1 comment:

Liz Green said...

As usual, I always love reading your blog posts. We are so glad we got to spend our vacation days in Lake Powell with you guys.

I have to say that the fish the guys caught was extra tasty.