I do not fish. I long ago ceased accompanying A. on his fishing expeditions. So I think A. gets great enjoyment out of the fact that I am once again forced to tag along on fishing trips. Cubby isn't quite old enough to actually fish with A., so my presence is required to chase after the boy while his father does the actual fishing. Cubby spent about ten minutes whacking the water with the top section of a fishing pole before finding a fun log to balance on and steep hills to climb and berries to inspect.
A. didn't catch anything, but it didn't matter. They both had a good time.
Then there was the moving of the shitty straw and A. fixed some gutters and today was the MiL's birthday so I made her some duck-egg custard and lamb curry.
What? So it's not the most traditional of birthday foods, but that's what she asked for. Well, she asked for the custard; the curry was my own idea. It was really good, though.
Tomorrow it's supposed to be 83 degrees. What the hell? I don't know. But I do appreciate not having to haul wood for the woodstove for awhile. I am not, however, so foolish as to think we are done with the woodstove for the season. I don't totally rule out woodstoving until about June. So I'll take advantage of this warm period to clean the ashes out of it in preparation for the next round of wood burning.
And here I will finish a completely random and disjointed collection of nonsense, with a completely random closing. The end.