Thanksgiving. For fishing.

The other night Hale asked me to tell him the story of Goldilocks and the trout fishing.

So I told him. I'd never heard it before myself, but it turns out that in this story, Goldilocks is ambling along the banks of a trout stream, wishing she had a fishing pole to catch some fish with. She finds one that's too big and stout and she can barely lift it, and one that's too small to even cast into the middle of the stream, and then she finds one that's juuuuust right--she flicks the little fluffy mosquito pattern fly and the bobber right out to where the fish are rising.

And she catches a fish.

Then the bears come back, who own the fishing rods, and they get super excited that they have someone to eat lunch with, so it's a good thing Goldilocks has some fish to share, cause they're hungry.

So they all eat trout for lunch and make a date to go fishing together again sometime.

When I was finished, Hale said, "Thank you, Daddy. Thank you to take me fishing and catch a trout with me. I like it."

A few weeks ago Hale and I went camping with his (and my) cousins, Dan and Ethan and Erika, over east of the mountains, north of Roslyn, WA. It was the second of two trips there, with them, this summer. Great time both times. Hale enjoyed the whole thing, but her really liked the fishing part.

Here's some pictures of the first trip.

And here's a batch from the second trip.

Thanks for taking us fishing, Cousin Dan! Whenever I tell the story of Goldilocks and the Trout Fishing, I suspect that Hale and I both will picture the banks of the stream that drains Tucquala Lake as the setting.