Friday, July 26, 2013

Be very, very quiet

So I spent a good part of last weekend hunting crawdads with a certain little girlchild.   I don't know about you, but when I think about hunting crawdads I think:

A) some kind of trap
B) set down in some kind of water
C) filled with some kind of bait (a.k.a. bologna).

Not walking out into the yard and shining a flashlight down a hole.

And yet we ended up out in the front yard shining flashlights down 1 inch round holes looking for claws or the shine of those beady, little eyes.

I don't know about you but the fact that the crawdads live in the lawn (I assume because the water table is so high there) kind of freaks me out.  In the it's okay to visit but I could never live there kind of way.
Sorry Illinois!  You are not the state for me.

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