Just another lazy summer afternoon in Ferrisburg. I love the summertime. One of my favorite things to do is go down to the town beach and sit in the shade with my drawing pens and a blank sheet of paper, and watch my boy-child do what he loves most - search for fish or bugs. Heading down to the beach (which is only two and a half miles from our house) is a nice break from everything that keeps me busy at home. Sometimes I don't even open up my binder to draw. Sometimes I just sit and watch what goes on around me. People come down to the lake with their dogs, kids, boats, and friends. I listen to the conversations going on around me. I smile as I watch little ones playing in the water and remember what it was like when my kids were that small. I hold my breath as I listen to kids asking Zach what he's catching and if they can see it. I hold my breath because I never know what's going to come out of his mouth and I wonder if it's going to be the F-word or some other word that parents don't want their kids to repeat. I breathe a sigh of relief when he has a conversation without "colorful words" and everyone moves on to something different. I exclaim, "Good job, Buddy!" when Zach tells me he caught another fish, as he makes sure to tell me every time he catches one.
Today, there was a family that came down to the lake and Zach was getting frustrated that the fish were swimming away too quickly for him to catch them and he let loose with the F-word. I had to remind him to watch the language as there were other kids around. The parents looked over at me with a look of shock and I just went back to my drawing. I've gotten used to the reaction and I no longer feel the need to explain or apologize. I just go about my business and let Zach go about his.
Zach was quite pleased with the amount of minnows he caught. He and I filled up one of his fish tanks with water and put the minnows in. Tomorrow, he'll catch them all over again in his tank and we'll bring them back to the lake. It's strictly "catch and release." He thanked me about 4 or 5 times on the way home, "Mom, thanks for taking me to catch fish at Town Beach." "You're welcome, Zach." It's the same routine over and over again, always in an uneven number.
And here's what I worked on today while sitting on the beach:
It's a new zine I'm working on about the weekly whimsical adventures that I have with my 83-year old grandfather. I had so much fun putting the first zine together that I thought it would be a great way to record all the good times Gramps and I have on our outings.