The One that Got Away ...
This is a bit of a fish story post, so you'll have to depend on our upstanding reputations as honest folk to believe the stories. B and I were recently privileged to go crappie (before you get worked up, legalists, it's a type of fish, not a semi-curse word!) fishing with a friend out on Harris Lake. Actually, the whole story isn't that hard to believe, since it's pretty standard fare as fishing trips go, but it's the mere fact that there was "one that got away" that makes it somewhat dubious.
Crappie fishing is actually not that strenuous. If practiced the way B and her twin (can you see the family resemblance?) do it, it mostly consists of throwing your lines in the water, sitting back and waiting for something to happen, wandering to the other side of the boat, eating a cracker, wandering back to your seat, then eating another cracker, until someone interrupts by saying something like "Hey, I think you have a bite," at which point they scurry back to their post to haul in said fish. 
As the evening wore on, the fishing was pretty good, although our guides advised us that it could be much better. Here B shows off a decent fish.
J got into the act as well, manning a whole stack of lines at the back of the boat.
However, as it got darker, B hooked her "monster." Crappie are typically not big fighters, and once you have them hooked its a simple matter of reeling in the line. However, this was not your average bite - instead of slightly wiggling around, B's line bent double and when she began to reel in, the fish put up a fight. She managed to get it almost to the boat while we floundered around finding the previously uncalled for net. As it surfaced, we realized that this was no crappie - it was a really large largemouth bass. The resident expert got a good look at it and gave a later estimate of 8-9 lbs, which would have made him a truly notable example of his species. Unfortunately, we were fishing on 10 lb. line, and after a brief appearance on the surface to smile at B in mockery, he dove and snapped the line with ease. Now, I must say that it has gotten bigger in the retelling (I heard 14 lbs. mentioned once!), but, though I didn't actually see it, our friend did get a good look and I think the 8-9 lb. estimate to be a fairly reliable and believable one. 
Of course, you can't have a J and B post without at least one pic of the young one. Here he's enjoying a bright sunny spring day with his grandpa. The only detraction to the enjoyment of the day is the destroyed deck in the background (see last week's post for details) - if you look closely, you can even see the upturned stump of the offending tree.
As far as us, we're doing well. We're halfway through the documentation process, and finally sent in all the necessary paperwork for our travel documents this week. Please be remembering that whole process, which can be a complicated one. This week, we're going to going to Florida again for my grandmother's memorial service and to visit Steven's grandparents. :) I should be packing right now instead of writing this, and I'm talking in the morning to another local family group. Anyway, we're keeping busy - only a couple of weeks to go!
This week's Blog Debate™: What are the actual lyrics to complete this Enya song: "Whooo can saaaaay, what your oooooonaaanaaaaaaay, where the taaaaaroonaaaaaay, ooonly tiimme." And no, you can't google the answer - you have to guess based purely on your recollection from the time two years ago that this came on the radio every other song (unless you are Rachael, in which case you can use your recollection for when you actually played the CD in your car yesterday).
