Catch o' the day

Yesterday was Sunday, and you know what that means.
Yup. Pasta at grandpa's after church.
And there were probably more people there than I've seen in a while, and we've had a crowd every Sunday for weeks now!
Let's see, it was something like 14 adults and and 9 kids!
Crazy in gramp's little house! But so much fun!!! It always is.
Here are some pics of the day:
Good friends, Kerri and Phillip.
Andrea and Henry.
Zach and Owen.
My little monster!
Isaac laying down while brushing his teeth. Ten-year-olds!
Daniel says, "what'sa matta you?" (and me making a crazy face in the background. Ugh!)
Of course, where could the boys be found?
Out by the pond. . . fishing.
Isaac, Josiah, Peyton and Ben pictured here.
Josiah was the star of the day, though, when he caught this bass! (He didn't want to hold it, however. Look at his face! He made Isaac hold it, who was only too happy to do so!)
I am so glad my sons have this place. This growing-up place that will shape them, that will live in their memories, larger than life.
They will become men who will long tell stories of fishing at grandpa's pond.
Or about the time they fell in.
Or rowed on it for hours in a yellow rubber Coleman raft.
Or the time they panned for gold.
Or found a piece of stone with cave drawings on it?!?
Or saw a large water snake.
Or maybe . . . something else.
And when they return to it as those men, they will be amazed at how small the pond has become, this pond where they caught giant fish, and rowed rafts across, and panned for gold and treasures, and scooped frogs out of the shallows.
This slice of their now wide world will shrink.
And they will shake their heads and breath out a "Huh. It always seemed so much bigger . . ."
This is how it goes when we grow up.
Our perspectives change, sometimes unfortunately so.
But their children's eyes will glow when they see it.
They will recognize the bends and boarders from their father's stories.
The other bank of it will look like a far off country . . .the depth of it unfathomable, the contents of it fantastic and fearsome, the possibilities of it . . . endless.