Splish Splash

Sunday, we loaded up the kids and headed over to the lakes. We rarely get to enjoy Spirit Lake when we come back to visit Grandpop and Grandma Joan. We usually visit in November or December for the holidays and the lake is hardly inviting at that time. I was really excited to take the kids there so they could put their toes in the sand. Lord knows it will be the closest to a real beach they will see until they get a little older.

It was a beautiful day. We had lunch out on the patio of a little restaurant that overlooks the lake and a small marina. We enjoyed the sun, the breeze and watching the boats go by. 

There was a small little beach next to the restaurant and after lunch we walked the kids down to the shore.

Off came the shoes, toes were placed in the sand and the gentile waves washed over our feet.

News Flash: Mr Blue Eyes is a waving machine. Hello. Good bye. He loves to wave.

I wasn't really sure how Mr Blue Eyes would like the waves rolling over his feet. He was pretty quiet at first. Processing everything - his new surroundings. After a few minutes, he started grinning and garbling babbles with glee.

Then he wanted to touch the water. Stiff as a board, Grandpop tipped him over so he could feel the water with his hands. 

Toes in the sand was starting to turn into a very wet experience.

We loaded the kids back up and headed to a different beach right by Arnold's Park.

First shoulder ride. Mr Blue Eyes had a good grip on all that white hair.

We got down to the beach and there were these little rocks positioned along the shore. Grandpop found one that was just the right size and place to make the perfect little stool for Mr Blue Eyes.

The rock was high enough to keep him dry but close enough for the little waves to roll in over his feet each time. 

With in a few minutes...

 

...all giggles. 

Smiles and laughter galore. My Brown Eyed Girl has always been a fish. The waves were a whole new level of cool. 

So much for JUST sticking our toes in. 

We were now wading in the water. 

Grandma Joan thought ahead - I guess that mommy instinct never goes away - and she brought some beach toys like a sail boat, a shovel and a rake.

Mr Blue Eyes was eying his Sissy splashing in the water.

She looked like she was having so much fun.

He thought about being brave.

And then there was a big wave...

...and he decided maybe venturing off his little rock was not the best idea.

He wasn't quite ready for body surfing yet.

Digging in the sand was a little more his speed.

The kid loves dirt.

Good thing I had a spare change of clothes in the car. They were soaking wet and now covered in sand.

I sat back on a rock under the sunshine. A smile on my face and happiness in my heart. I watched my two beautiful children playing in the water.

I love this picture.

But I think this is my favorite.

After swimming, we walked over to Arnold's Park for ice cream and souvenir t-shirts. 

What a wonderful day. 

Lucky for me I still had a half a gallon of water in the car. I had to strip both kids in the parking lot and rinse the sand from every crevice. In dry clothes, Mr Blue Eyes fell asleep before we even left town. My Brown Eyed Girl sang from her car seat all the way back to Grandpop's.

At The Links

There is a little nine hole golf course in the little town where my dad lives. Ever since I was a little girl, I have accompanied my dad out on that golf course. I can remember riding along in the cart with my dad while my grandparents, aunts and uncles played golf in the summer when everyone was back visiting on vacation.

My dad would let my sister and I drive. We would take turns pushing the accelerator to the floor to see how fast we could get the carts to go.

My sister was a terrible driver.

I fell off the back of the golf cart more than once. She swore it was an accident - I think otherwise.

As an adult, I now enjoy golfing with my dad. Swinging the clubs and hitting balls. I hit a lot of balls. I always strategicaly squeeze two or more rounds of golf into nine holes. I get my moneys worth that way. It really is a more efficient way to play.

It has been a while since I was back in Iowa during the summer months. I couldn't wait to get to play golf with my dad. I packed my clubs and warned my dad that we needed to squeeze in a couple games in this week. I really didn't have to twist his arm too much. My dad plays golf every day. He is usually the first one on the course every morning. He has been given special permission to bring JC out every morning and they walk the course together. I can't think of a single course in Denver that would let a patron walk his dog on the course each day.

After fishing, we headed out to the course and decided to bring my Brown Eyed Girl with us for her first golfing experience - this has been a week of many firsts for us.

At firs,t I think my Brown Eyed Girl was a little confused as to what "golf" was exactly.

We took her into the clubhouse and bought her a special drink, some Cheetos and covered her in a blanket - it was getting a little chilly out as a spring storm was rolling in.

The Cheetos were a hit. The perfect ice breaker as we tee'd off.

It took her a couple holes to clean off the orange residue and venture from her blanket.

We finally were able to convince her to attempt to putt. 

Putting was for the birds. Not very impressive.

Grandpop had a better idea.

Once our Brown Eyed Girl figured out how to work the flag, it was her new job.

She watched attentively as we putted. Cheered us on when we hit well.

Such a ham.

Always the pretty princess.

On the last hole, there is this old bridge that crosses the creek. As kids, we were always so nervous to drive the carts across the bridge. I can't really remember being interested in walking on the bridge. It always seemed to high, so scarry.

Not our little thrill seeker. She lived watching the water pass below. Tossing sticks in and watching them float down the stream.

 

I golfed like crap but enjoyed crusing around the links with my Brwon Eyed Girl and spending time with my dad.

Gone Fishin'

When you have worms - go fishing.

Granpop has a friend with a private pond in the middle of a cow pasture. With our night-crawlers in hand, we drove out to our own little private fishing hole for the morning. There was a little dock on one side of the pond. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful morning.

Grandma Joan bought our Brown Eyed Girl a brand new Barbie fishing pole this week. Grandpop fixed our Brown Eyed Girl up with a bobber and a worm on her hook. She cast the line out like she was a pro. With in about 2.5 seconds you could see a little blue gill swim right up to her line and take the bait.

I barely had time to put Mr Blue Eyes in the stroller and get the camera out. Our Brown Eyed Girl reeled and reeled and as the little fish fought the line.

And just like that, our Brown Eyed Girl caught her very first fish!

She loved every second of it.

After petting the fish and then kissing the fish, Grandpop unhooked him and tossed him back in to the pond. She cast the line again.

In a matter of seconds, she had hooked another one...

The fish were slippery and wet and they made her giggle.

Catching fish in this pond was like taking candy from a baby. As soon as you dropped your line in the water, you had a bite. It was harder to catch the night-crawlers than it was to catch the fish. For a three-year-old, it was the perfect fishing hole. The perfect fishing experience.

Grandma Joan decided to grab a rod and give it a shot. She cast her line way out in the middle and got a bite.

She reeled him in.

She caught a bass.

And although he was a beauty, we were just here to catch and release. Sorry Grandma Joan, maybe you can catch him again someday. Maybe Grandpop would mount him for the living room.

Grandma Joan, we know he is a keeper. You don't have to work at trying to convince us.

Before putting him back we showed Mr Blue Eyes. He didn't quite know what to think about the little bass.

Maybe he just needed to catch one himself.

Everyone was fishing, everyone except Mom. So I got my daddy to bait my hook. I cast out the line and waited a few seconds. Ka-pow! I had a bite. I reeled and reeled and grinned with glee has I unveiled my catch.

I had my daddy unhook the fish for me and we put him back in the pond.

You heard correctly.

My daddy still baits my lines and unhooks my fish.

I cast out my line and was preoccupied with watching my Brown Eyed Girl reel in yet another fish. Grandpop asked me where my bobber was.

My bobber??? Oh yeah. I was still fishing...

I firmly grasped by rod and gave it a little crank to reel in the slack. All of a sudden, something took my line - hard. I slipped my camera back in my pocket and started to reel. The more I reeled, the more the fish fought. Periodically stripping the line back. This had to be a big one!

As I reeled him in closer to the dock, I would catch a quick glimpse of him under the water. This was not a blue gill. He was BIG!

Grandpop could also tell he was big. I was advised to guide the fish over to the shore so Grandpop could help me get the fish out of the water. He doubted I would be able to pull it out, up over the railing of the dock. As I maneuvered the pole and line closer, I was informed I had caught a bass.

I had never caught a bass before in my life.

I was excited, giddy, and I felt very accomplished.

It was a gigantic catch. Especially from a tiny little pond in the middle of a cow pasture.

My Brown Eyed Girl thought my fish was pretty cool too.

All this fishing and excitement was exhausting.

Our Brown Eyed Girl's attention span slowly slipped away. She moved on to bathing the worms in a bucket of water. After a few casualties, Grandpop suggested taking JC for a little walk. They walked over to the other side of the pond and Grandpop tossed JC's retrieving toy in the water so that our Brown Eyed Girl could watch him swim.

Grandma Joan and I stood there on the dock, catching fish - I had to suck it up and bait my own hook and take off my own fish. It was very liberating. 

Mr Blue Eyes snored from his stroller.

Grandpop and our Brown Eyed Girl hiked around the pond. Laughing.

We were all smiling.

The sun shining on our faces.

The fish biting.

We agreed that moments like these were good for the soul. Standing there in the middle of that pasture, over the pond was easily God's greatest church.