Today, I was taking a breather, sitting by a pond in one of our town's parks. As I was sitting there, a young lady and two little boys came walking up. The two boys had fishing poles. I have experience with little boys and fishing poles - more specifically, with little boys and fishing hooks. Need I say that not all this experience has been pleasant?
The younger boy looked to be a combination of whirlwind and imp: not a good combination for turning loose with fishing poles and fishing lines and hooks.
I started to feel a bit concerned that they were setting up so close to me.
I needn't have worried.
While the older boy was solemnly getting his set-up in order and baiting his hook with intense attention to detail, the younger boy hopped down to the pond, carefully picked what he considered a prime location (albeit taking time mid-quest to point out - with a happy shout - the spray a sprinkler down the way was making when it overshot the grass and hit the pond surface) and then he did a cast which threw his ribbon on the water.
An orange ribbon, tied securely to the end of the pole, served in lieu of a fishing line with hook. The ribbon was faded and it was frayed at the end. It had seen hard use, this ribbon.
It was just the same sort of plain ribbon used for birthday packaging; the type that curls tightly if you run it over the edge of scissors. It had a few lazy curls in it, like that type of ribbon tends to have naturally - this gave it bounce when he moved his pole up and down. Bounce is good in this context. Bouncing lines are fun.
He was happy. And make no mistake - he was fishing. Earnestly. There was nothing wrong with this kid's imagination.
Too fun.
Update: Made correction in third from last paragraph. Sorry I had the glitch in the first round.
Surprised by Oxford by Carolyn Weber
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I read this memoir conversion story on my Kindle back in 2011 when it first
was published. I said then that I enjoyed the story, but it left me feeling
. ....
14 hours ago
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