It's Dad's Birthday. Otherwise, I had planned on sleeping in.

There's really no such thing as sleeping in when you're on a fishing vacation with my father. And by sleeping in, I mean "past 7 a.m." Really, your only hope is to pray for rain - even if just for the morning (I hear that tomorrow will be that day)- or cover the windows so he can't see the light.

Unfortunately, my father is too clever for all of that, and has an internal clock that ignores Daylight Savings Time and never runs out of batteries. He's been telling us for years that the fish eat breakfast early, but I'm fairly certain that a) they don't eat lures for breakfast, similarly to how we don't eat, say, hamburgers and b) I've never caught a fish prior to 10 a.m.

We've tried keeping him awake late, but that doesn't work. Dad seems only to require a few short hours, his dog, some really strong coffee and a really good breakfast to get going.

I require Starbucks.

(I haven't found one within a 10 mile range. I'm fairly certain that I'd have to drive 40 minutes to Burlington to find one. And I wouldn't survive the ride each morning.)

But for Dad, we woke early, we fished... then we fished some more. And then I made cupcakes, and then we fished.

And now? Now we sleep. And we hang black tarps outside of Dad's windows so we can trick that internal clock of his. (Just kidding, Dad! I just drugged your cupcake. No, just kidding about that too... kind of....)

Here's to you, Dad. On your birthday. Thank you for always taking our pike and pickerel off and for teaching us the finer points in fishing - and life.



As for our four year old fishing buddy today, we did indeed fish with my nephew. He did indeed catch fish... including a toothy creature (more on that fun tomorrow).

My sister and I: 0 Pickerel: 4

Just so it's clear, my sister and I are not huge fans of fish that have teeth. So when it comes to things like pickerel and pike, we are, frankly, scared of them.

So you can just imagine how much fun it was to see just the two of us catch not one but five toothy creatures.

The first one took us both by surprise. It hit my lure particularly hard.

JAL: What is it?
me: I don't know! You tell me! (I was, at the time, fighting to bring it up to the surface, and it happen to be right in front of her.

We both saw the long skinny belly at the same time.

JAL and Me (together): Oh, crap.

That began a string of expletives not fit for electronic publication. It also began a streak of us catching things that could bite our fingers off. Or mangle them, at minimum.

But today was practice, really. Because tomorrow, my sister and I will be joined by a certain four year old who thinks all fish are cute, and likes to pet them.

Tomorrow should be fun.

Day One: Ah the olfactory experience of Vermont. Cows and Fish.

As promised, today begins our vacation at the lake, and thus my daily report to you, our faithful readers.

So I'm sitting here, on the double bed that my husband and I will soon pass out on, and there are these little mosquitoes all over my screen. I've been coming here for... nearly every year since I was 7, and yet, every year I forget about the insane bug issues.

Anyhoodle, my sister and I are not currently bonding, as she is on her boat still. One assumes. It's 10 p.m. and we haven't heard from her. So either she's taken the boat to Canada (a realistic possibility, as it's about 20 minutes from the border), or she's too busy catching fish to answer her phone.

What's that? Why yes, I did bring my blackberry on the boat. How else would I have taken these great pictures for you?

First, this is my new friend. I've named him Herbert. It seems a good name for a turtle.


Next, this is how amazingly beautiful it is. It's almost pretty enough to ignore the mosquitoes.



Funny. I don't remember taking pictures of the bugs. Oh wait. They're just *all over my screen.*

Okay, but really. Besides the bugs, it's perfect. Wish you were here! (but kind of not. because that'd be kind of creepy, and you'd hog my fishing spots. but you know. you're here in spirit.)

Remember back when I used to blog? That was fun.

Yada yada, excuse about not blogging, yada yada.

I realize there's a formula to my posts, so I'm going to try to mix it up a bit. Kind of like how I mix up my work wardrobe by wearing black one day, black another day, then black with red shoes and then black and white.

It's about that time of year when I take off with my family for vacation. Like I do every year. And every year it's full of hilariousness. Hopefully this year will be no exception.

So as I gather my St. Croix rods, Pfluegger reels, Mepps lures and peep toe pumps (because nothing says bass fishing like fancy footwear), I am also grabbing a digital camera and my laptop. Because I vow to our reading public to blog from Vermont *every single day* with the events of the day.

Besides, when my sister and I get together on a boat and there are fish with teeth involved, it's always a good time.

Particularly because her boat has a cooler. And I think I will make Cosmopolitans in a thermos. I just hope that we don't accidentally store the vodka in the livewell. That would not be good.

How to know your blog has arrived...

The Pretend Husband never reads this blog. Every once in awhile, when I think I've been particularly witty, I'll read him my post. But I don't think he would even know how to find it.

But he thinks about it. A few months ago, he "forbid" me from posting anything about him (quite randomly and in the middle of an argument about something else entirely). I kind of let his declaration pass without comment, didn't write anything about him for a week or two and then subtly brought up how I had posted about something that involved him. Luckily, he didn't have a problem with it because, let's be honest, the PH and his shenanigans (or the PH putting up with mine) comprise at least 80 percent of what I talk about.

Last night, the PH and I were discussing some stuff related to his career after I had designed some materials for him. We went through the different designs and talked about what he liked about them and what changes he wanted made. Then, as he was walking out of the room, he looked back at me and said, "And no, you can't post them on the blog to ask people's opinions."

So, I'm curious... does your significant other read your blog? Do they ask you to limit their presence on it or ask for any restrictions such as not using their name? Do they even know what a blog is?