Of hooks and hope

Well... I am pleased to report that the debut angling scenario involving young Mathew was relatively successful. I only got the hook stuck in my finger twice, my son did not end up floating in the river, and apart from his attempt to ingest maggots as if they were haribo, he spent the day in a calm, playful mood and seemed to genuinely enjoy himself. I would never have considered fishing as a possible father/son activity, but once it was suggested I was happy to give it a go, and I'm so glad we went along. It helped that the guy we were with is experienced, and very patient, and used to dealing with children, but even without his guidance I think we would have been ok. I could even go so far as to say that I enjoyed the whole thing, and I dare say that if I was to make it a regular hobby, it might be something I end up looking forward to. I must be becoming middle-aged! Next thing you know I'll be getting excited by sheds...

Tonight I sat in the garden and got a bit depressed about the fact that it's getting dark so much earlier now, but then I offset that by getting excited about the fact that there are only two weeks left in the school holidays, and that my crazy work life will soon be settling down into something resembling manageable, rather than the uncontrollable chaos it is for a large part of July and August.

RC 24-8-25