This morning was clear and cool. Well, heck: if we aren't going to get any of the rain that we need, let's at least go fishing, we thought. So we did:
If I'd known I was going to be photographed, I wouldn't have worn shabby ole gardening clothes. This large-mouth bass was 13.5". Altogether we caught three (this one was the largest) and the fillets totaled one pound. Two fish dinners coming right up!
As Jean Shepard observed, sometimes in the midst of our revelries, things go awry. (Well, he said it better.) Our route home takes us down a steep hill; the speed limit is 30 mph, but the vehicle rolls faster than that! And the police know it. I got pulled over at the bottom of the hill. Maybe because I looked like I couldn't afford a ticket (I mean, green pants and a turquoise T-shirt, both of which had seen better days), or because I immediately confessed and apologized, or because (as she observed) it was too pretty a day to write a ticket, the policewoman wrote me a warning and wished us farewell. (I plan to use the cruise control from now on.)
Here's to fishing (and catching!)