I guess I can’t complain about having a child whose sole request for his birthday is to go fishing. Not some elaborate deep-sea trip in an exotic location (though I know he wouldn’t turn it down), just a simple trip to a local river to try his luck. Continue reading “It’s Called Fishing, Not Catching”
The First Shot
We were back at the cabin last weekend, this time we were joined by all the Old Man’s siblings and his dad (affectionately called El Viejo, which means “old man” in Spanish). It’s probably been almost three decades since they were all together at the cabin.
Continue reading The First Shot
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Black Friday
Over the river and through the woods to grandfather’s house, we go. Actually it was grandfather’s cabin in the nearby foothills on a parcel of land the Old Man’s parents purchased several decades ago. The family built the rough cabin by hand and visited on occasion when the Old Man and his siblings were growing up.
Mostly Greek 