On Wednesday afternoon, we headed for our Mecca of Thanksgiving: Madill, Oklahoma. For the past thirtyish years, our family has rented out a camp for our family reunion at Thanksgiving, and the tradition continues on. We now have four generations attending since all the grandkids are having kids!
I continued to play with the camera on the way down.
Sadly, I don't have any of the fish story pictures, but here is the fish story... Frédéric, the boys, their cousin Alex, and my grandad went to the (now greatly depleted) pond to go fishing. Frédéric caught an 8-pound catfish, but only had a 10-pound line. He and the fish fought it out for a while, until he managed to get it up near his feet.
Grandad Crowe reached in to try to pull the fish up, but the fish pulled back and Grandad fell in the pond. At this point, the boys decided fishing was not for them anymore!
Now, if you ask Noah how big the fish that got away was, he stretches out his arms as wide as he can. If you ask Benjamin, he tells you it was "21."
Noah tried his skill at hurling sticks into the pond.
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| He and Uncle Curtis looked in awe at the one he got to land straight up. |
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| Xenia looks on as her brother and cousin play washers. |
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