Let's skip the blow-by-blow descriptions of the cinnamon roll from Shipley's, the wonderful yet odd Lewisville fishing barge, the "Sportsmans Warehouse", the great sandwich at Firehouse Sub, and even the the sublime ironic joy of perusing the back of the elk sausage, the bison jerky and then the turkey jerky package so as to calculate calories, fat content and fiber content.. Let's just take a moment to note fish count: Nephew: 8, Uncle Bob 1, and then let's explore together a windy day at Park Hill Prairie, home of unspoiled blackland prairie.
Scenes from Park Hill Prairie, near Merit.
We can discuss, at leisure, the dinner my wife and I enjoyed with our nephew at Hibachi Rock, where the table chef made the flaming volcano, the percussive spatula rhythm, and the "catch rice with your mouth" contest, as per usual, and yet as delightful as ever.
We can talk also about how having a 13 year old around leads one to films one would never otherwise see, like "wild hogs", although PG-13 is a bit racier than I remembered, although when I was 13, sheltered as I was, the film would have seemed pretty tame indeed (except for the marisa tomei/dorian gray duality quality).
This was a full and satisfying day, complete with greenery and trout lilies.