I am well emotional. Especially when it has something to do with the following:
Family – especially the kids when they smile, laugh, have an engaging conversation.
Mile stones – Borthdays, Christmases and special events where we hug each other and are generally having a moment.
Church – The unity of people brings a tear to my eye when they talk about jesus and have fierce retoric. I’m not religious I just got when the ex-wife was making me.
Speeches – Terrible for that but oddly enough I can carry out speeches at funerals with no real issues.
Bag pipes – Not because of the pain caused to my ear drum but being half scottish means I have a special place in my heart for them.
Someone might think I have emotional personality disorder..
The fire crackled in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over the living room. The family was gathered around, sipping hot chocolate and talking. The kids were playing with their new toys, and the adults were laughing and talking about their plans for the next day.
It was Christmas Eve, and the house was filled with the warmth of the season. The smell of cookies baking in the oven wafted through the air, and the sound of Christmas carols playing in the background filled the house with cheer.
This was one of the few times of year when the whole family was together, and they were all enjoying each other’s company. The kids were excited about Santa Claus coming, and the adults were just happy to be together.
They talked for hours, laughing and reminiscing about past Christmases. They talked about their hopes and dreams for the future, and they made plans to spend more time together in the coming year.
As the night went on, the fire burned lower and the kids started to get tired. One by one, they drifted off to sleep, curled up on the couch or in their parents’ laps.
The adults stayed up a little longer, talking and enjoying each other’s company. But eventually, they too started to get tired. They kissed their children goodnight and went to bed, content and happy.
It had been a perfect Christmas Eve. They had all been together, they had been warm and cozy, and they had made memories that would last a lifetime.
One of my biggest hobbies, when I get the chance, is fishing. Someone thing nice about sitting by a lake or river waiting for that next tight line and seeing what you’ve hooked. I wanted to talk about it because I think it’s important for me to remember that I like doing things. Like I am allowed to have something that I enjoy and as an escape from the day-to-day.
It all started back when I was 6-7 with Opa over in Holland fishing one of the rivers/canals in his back garden. A bamboo cane, with a line, barbless hook, and some wet bread. It worked wonders on catching them. I always release my catches and always use barbless hooks. Not only does it stop the jaw of the fish from being ripped out but makes for a challenge as they could slip off the hook. The wet bread bait is genius as you don’t need to drive around looking for maggots or casters. He showed me the basics and whenever I went over, I would take my bamboo rod and fish with him or my Uncle Henk.
I used to heavily fish in the lakes near the farm. £3 permit for the day with a take-home two and release the rest. On these lakes, it was strictly rainbow trout. So sometimes I would take one back to sell to one of the workers on the farm for £3 to pay the fishing fee for the day. Some days I would catch loads, others not so much. It was always very quiet, it being in a remote location. The weather would often be awful and buckets of rain would fall. I still loved it. I invested my wages from the farm on a rod and reel. Training myself from books and practicing knots.
One time Opa came over from Holland to spend time with us. We went down to the lakes where I fish and spent a few hours. He insisted I use the bamboo rod. Just as we were leaving I said “Just one last go” and no sooner did I put the line in, than a rainbow trout got the bait and I landed him. It was an amazing end to the day. Opa took it home, filleted it and we had it for dinner.
The dinner was horrible but still was amazing to see a man prepare food that fresh, deboned, and everything else you do with a fish.
Even through university, I would fish with a few of my housemates. I had a telescopic rod so it would save space in my room. Whenever we could we would go down to the river, which isn’t far from where I live now. Always catching small different kinds of fish but it was more practice for when we went to the lakes near here, those lakes, amazing places. I caught my first carp there.
Nowadays I play online. I did a previous post about the game Russian Fishing, which albeit it isn’t quite the same but is advanced enough for me to enjoy it. So every few days I’ll get some time in. Whenever we go camping we tend to choose somewhere with a small lake or river nearby and I’ll teach B, R, and S the ropes. D even gets involved!
