Gone Fishin'

A couple of weeks ago, that devilishly handsome man I married went to Kentucky for Angus Junior Nationals in Louisville.  Don't say it like I do "Louey-ville" you'll get made fun of.  Gotta say it like this: "Lullvull."  Got it?  Ok, good.

Anyway, he was in "Lullvull" at Angus Jr. National's and I was home alone with my fearless companion, the fur child.

Yep, he's fearless alright.  Ha.

We wanted to go fishing.  And by "we" I mean "I."  So we loaded up the pick-up and drove down to the pond.  Could definitely have walked, but didn't want get covered in ticks.  (I feel the same way about ticks as I do fleas, barf!)

So, yeah, back to fishing.  I LOVE fishing!  Except for the taking off the hook part.  And the putting on the worm part.  And the cleaning the fish part. (Luckily I married a man who is skilled and proficient in all these areas, it's a win-win).  Now, you may be wondering how I plan to take a fish off of said hook when/if I actually catch anything.  Not to worry!  I brought some light gloves.  And by light gloves, I basically mean heavy winter mittens.  Fish are kind of gross.  Especially when they flop!   

Anyway,  there we where, me and the fur-child, taking in the great outdoors.  All of the sudden.....

 TA-DA!!  He's such a monster.  Ha.

 I had to run all the way back to the truck to grab my fishing glove, but I got that little heifer off the hook!

  Muah!  

The End.