The River Wild

Yesterday we went to the river so Josh could go fly fishing. In my head I pictured fly fishing to be like this:

I should know better than to trust the movies. I wanted to go SO BAD, to get out of the house and enjoy the sun and see the river. We drove an hour and a half to the Maupin, and it was a beautiful sunny drive and Ada slept the whole way and the mountains were gorgeous. Then we arrived and the clouds came out, and the wind, and the babe woke up. Josh had fun fishing, and I sat in the grass, fought off bugs,  and tried to nurse and calm the baby. It didn't go very well. So then we drove home. 

This is the reality of fly fishing. Except the Pabst is missing, and the bugs, and the other people walking around.

And this is the reality of what happens when you come home and everyone is exhausted:

Somehow even Richard was exhausted, and he didn't even go! I tried to cook dinner, until Stella got under my feet and tripped me, and then I got mad at her, and then I felt bad and then I cried. I think we were all a bit over-tired. I guess outings will be more fun when the baby can wear waders and fish too. And I can stay at home and go shopping.