…and I didn’t actually stick a hook in him. I just rubbed a little peanut butter on his face, tied him on the line, and dropped him in. I was ready to yank him out really quick if he was in any real danger.
It was a crazy dream and doesn’t really mean a thing. I promise I never intend to actually fish with puppies for bait. The nature of that dream, however, leads me to reconsider whether that late-night pancake and eggs dinner was all that great an idea in spite of the Amish dark maple syrup that was so yummy though.
Now we’re in Arkansas. We stopped for the night at Tom Sawyer Mississippi River RV Park.
We can see barges out the windshield (and a river too).
First bird in the last state: Mourning Dove. Now we’ve recorded at least one bird in all 49 states!
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