Sunday, August 14, 3:30 PM. Garrett.

Dad shook me awake early this morning before the sun was up. The Almanac says it’s a good fishing day, he said, so we ought to go out before our church time. We got Claire and Trevor up and drove to the lake. Mom slept in.

I’d never fished before. Dad said he fished a lot as a kid but could barely remember how. We didn’t catch anything for a long time. Then he said he thought we were using the wrong bait so we tried something different.

Trevor got a hook stuck in his finger and it took Dad and me both working together to get it out. Trevor was pretty brave. He had tears, but he didn’t whine like he sometimes does.

After that Dad and I kept fishing while Claire and Trevor played in the water. We had to make them go farther away so they wouldn’t scare the fish, but close enough that we could still keep an eye on them. All of a sudden I felt a pull on the line and Dad said it was a bite and he coached me through how to reel it in. It felt really strong but then the fish wasn’t all that big. Maybe eight inches long. Dad said it was pretty big though for a crappie.

After that we started catching more fish. I caught four more and Dad caught seven. Mostly it was crappie but I caught two bass and Dad caught one. When we were walking back to the truck Dad smiled and said, “We just fed the family for three or four nights!” That felt pretty good.

I guess the Almanac was right. It was a good fishing day.

Claire and Trevor caught a pretty big frog but nobody wanted to eat that.