Since the boy is sick at home in the "den of sin" (as a guest once lovingly --yeah right--referred to my family room --nice eh? there isn't a porno mag, no rated R movies, no HBO at Night....I am not really sure WHAT sin he is talking about...) a lot, I want to try and get him out as much as possible.
We went what the locals call "Crawdad fishin'". Apparently the boy is a natural. Let me show you how it is done.
First, you need to know that we don't eat them. I think people do, but I, however, am not one of them. We drag ours home and throw them in our fish ponds. Part of that Circle of Life gig for the balance of ecology in the environment.
Second, you need a stick, string and some cheap hot dogs. Check, check, check. You break a piece off of hot dog, and tie the string around it. No hook necessary.
The boy was soooo excited to go that he didn't even notice that he had two different types of flip flops. Don't mind his bruised toe. Some sort of Star Wars ship mishap. :)
Then you wait. Not too long...those creatures are hungry!
You gently but quickly pull the string up every minute or two to see if you have a guy (I don't know if it is a fish, crustacean from the roach, crab family....so whatever it is). They hang on to the hot dog because they are greedy.
Then you drop them in the red bowl. I won't tell you what other stuff that bowl has held. Yuck.
Some creatures were concerned they were next to find their way to the red bowl.
Some ran off
before we got there.
These crawdads are not pretty. Watch those pinchers. I hear they hurt.
Here is a little friend, dubbed Juan Pabler, who did make the trip home. Not in the red bowl. Who says I am not a humanitarian? :)
