While Maria and I were fighting crowds in New York City, Maxwell was at Nana & Grandad's enjoying the simpler, quieter way of life in the country (I grew up in a town of just over 700 people in southeast Texas--Hardin, Texas). Now I love my dad (probably even more than he knows!), but one thing that we do not share a common interest in is fishing and hunting. I simply don't have the patience to sit on the bank of a pond, lake, creek, etc. and wait for the fish to bite. I wanted to like fishing, but sitting still is not something I have a natural talent for, so I struggled to enjoy those times with my dad (until Coach Vandiver got a bass boat--then I could enjoy fishing because we were out on a boat, but that is a different story). The fish didn't seem to want to bite when I was fishing with dad either, so that made things even worse.
Now back to Maxwell and his time with Grandad. They planned to go fishing all week, but every day it rained or something prevented them from going. Then on Friday they finally had a chance to go fishing in the afternoon. On the first cast Maxwell pulled in a 3 inch fish (seen above). After a few more casts, he reeled in a 4-5 inch fish (seen to the left).Then, a few casts later, he reeled in this one!
If my dad is reading this (not sure "blogs" are on his radar screen yet!), then I'm sorry to say that, based on my ability to fish (or lack thereof), I'm going to have to attribute Maxwell's early talent to the White side of the family (Maria's mom's family). They are from Newfoundland in Canada (affectionately referred to as Newfies) and Maria's grandfather and some of her uncles were fishermen by trade. Heaven knows he didn't get the fishing talent from me!
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