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Ever since Jack snagged his first largemouth bass in our pond, he wanted everyone to experience the joy of catching their own.

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Claire was the first. She spent an afternoon paddling around in the pond. The first time she was so excited that she let the line out and the fish escaped. The second time, she had some luck.

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Kate followed the same tactic and caught a good-sized fish of her own from the paddleboat, too.
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Evelyn fished from the shore…
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…and Henry pulled one in with Jack’s help.
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Yes, I own an ugly fox sweatshirt. And?

Not wanting me to feel left out, Jack called me over one evening when he was lazily casting on his fishing pole and let me reel in my very own dinky fish.

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I let it go and fished for myself, catching another small, barely-big-enough-to-eat fish all on my own.

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So far, there have been no casualties–no lost eyes, snagged fingers…even all the fish have been returned to the water–unless we’re talking clothes, then there have been a few emergencies. I hope everyone feels like accomplished fishers, now, and that snagged clothes is the worst we get!

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Welcome to the farm!

True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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