A Morning of Fishing

A couple weeks ago we went to the Guthries' farm (family friends who own a farm and whom we love to visit) for a few days for a school break. The four younger kids (Sonia, Lael, Philly, and Anna) stayed there for several day while my parents, Cole, and I went to Pretoria for a conference (which in itself was so amazingly fun!! But that's another story). When we returned to pick them up, we were invited to stay a few days ourselves. My mom and Aunt Tombie had a wonderful time reading and talking together, Cole reacquainted himself with Australian rugby, my dad and Uncle Jimmy did rather extensive car repairs amidst conversations on everything agricultural, and the younger kids fished, baked up a storm, hiked, and exuberantly inspected every inch of the farm. The Guthries' farm is pretty idyllically situated: several square kilometers of beautifully green, rolling hills, dams, trees, and waving grass that makes it look like a piece of transplanted Scotland.

Anyway, one particularly beautiful morning was Saturday morning of that week, and so some of us got up (relatively) early and went fishing. Philly's an ardent fan of the sport and so we decided to accompany him.

Lael and Johanna basking in the light with fishing paraphernalia in hand.


The sky a cloud-flecked beautiful blue and a lovely Lael with part of Dad. :)



First catch! A little red bream or barbel, or something of the sort.



Hooks and fingers and bait... and Jo.



The ambitious (and quite successful) fisher woman. :)



Voila! Well done! 'Tis a catch to be proud of, Lael! (I do have the right to say that, the biggest thing I caught was about two feet long: a fish that had evidently undergone some sort of aquatic metamorphosis and transformed itself into a stick with riverweed adornments. Hmmm.)



My mom enjoying the sun.



The troupe of fishers. Philly in his hat looks rather the part, no? ;)


Waiting for the bite. Good luck, guys!


Philly the proud and pleased hunter of redfish number thirteen. :)