Behold The Fisherman.
He is a Fly Fisherman.
Behold The Fisherwoman.
She is not a Fly Fisherwoman.
Matt and I have fished together since we started dating. It is quiet, relaxing, and soothing to both of us. It is not so soothing when you add a dog who is obsessed with swimming until she drowns and two kids that won't bait hooks and can't unhook a fish, but I AM NOT GOING TO COMPLAIN. SEE ME, NOT COMPLAINING!? Sigh.
USUALLY THERE IS A LOT OF BITCHING COMMENTS BECAUSE THE FISH AREN'T BITING MOM, WHY AREN'T THEY BITING? I CAN'T CAST. I STILL CAN'T CAST. MOM. MOM. MOOOOOOM. HE STOLE MY FISHING SPOT. I'M SNAGGED, MOM.
Luckily, on this day, they had success along with the rest of their usual fishing experiences.
why can't i go swim? i wanna swim. i wanna swim. i wanna swim.
pleeeeease. i wanna swim.
And where is their father?
Why, he is calm, soothed, and relaxing
50 yards upstream.
Of. Course.
Part of the fun of going fishing is trying to capture the perfect fly fishing picture of Matt.**
This is not at easy as it might seem.
For a variety of reasons.
He wasn't even close to hooking her, but there was a lot of *GASP!!* "DADDY!!!".
if you're not gonna let me swim, mom, can we please go home?
It's really easy to miss that moment when the line hangs in the air in a perfect arc.
I'm usually a few seconds late. Almost got it here.
Missed it again.
15 pictures later...
Perfect!
Perfection.
** I don't know why, because he certainly doesn't bother to try and get a good picture of me fishing. That picture above? Is the Only Picture of Me Fishing in existence. I am not even kidding.
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