Keeping Time: The idiots guide to surf fishing...

Surf Fishing! Heard of it? (Andrew's Note: Yes.) Me neither.... (But!...) But I married a guy who's an expert so here's the skinny:
Here's whats so disturbing about this whole concept. You can fish right where you swim in Galveston. Like seriously... right where you swim. (Nobody realizes the horrors of the deep.)
You might be thinking... so what? Whats the big deal? Let me tell you.... The last 4 times Andrew has gone surf fishing, he caught a shark.
And to prove it, I've included a picture from Andrew's last venture.

Oops, sorry, wrong one!
Here:

Grr... I am manly and I will kill you.

And while the sharks aren't all that large, isn't it just slightly disturbing that you can catch baby Bonnet Head sharks in the water where you swim in Galveston? (The water is naturally brown and there are lots of kids around in it...I doubt if the frady-cat sharks are the grossest thing to touch your leg!)

Side note: My band's favorite song to play at football games is the JAWS theme. It's super dramatical and then at the end all the kids scream, the band kids even got the cheerleaders and drill team members to join in with the screaming (a feat unto itself). It sounds like they're all being ravaged to death ... well, you get the idea.

Moving on.

Andrew, Chris, Jake (Chris' ginormous dog) and I went to Galveston to surf fish. Notice the two pansies that were conspicuously missing....? Was this intentional?...yes. (We think Won Ton might've done OK, but we're sure that Chile, in a fit of frightened rage, would have drowned himself just to get away from the scary dead shrimp we had for bait.)

I'll let Andrew explain the mechanics of surf fishing in more detail, but more or less it involves wadding out into the water about waist high, (or in Andrew's case... neck high) (Wife!!!), casting (sports term alert!!!), NOT losing the reel thingy (cough...because when we were in Florida once, she dropped her grandfather's "reel thingy" into the lake...never to be seen again.)), and then spinning the wheel thing until the fishing line comes back to you. 15 times out of 16 you'll get seaweed. On the 16th, you'll get a catfish! At which point I'll stop reading my Nook long enough to take a picture.
(That's pretty much it...you have to really feel the line to tell the difference between seaweed, waves, and fish. It takes some finesse. If this is a sport, then SURPRISE I'm good at it! This is somewhat of a family tradition since my Dad taught me how to do it and his Dad taught him. We still have his old surf fishing rod!) (Nerd!)

All in all, Andrew caught 10 catfish! Chris got heatstroke! (Seriously, he did) Jake enjoyed diarrhea! (He definitely did) I finished "The Silver Chair". And no sharks were harmed in the making of this blog!

Itty bitty fishy...

Jake and this fish... not a good outcome for the fish.

This one's preggers! (not Chris) (Chris, I told her not to write that.)

I had a date with C.S. Lewis. (She had a date with BORING)

Am I wearing pajama pants? Yes. Am I okay with this? Yes.

Wow babe... way to catch a huge fish!!! (COUGH, perspective.... cough) (WHATEVER! It's a HUGE catfish!! Not really...look at the size of the weight next to it...)