Ian woke on day three in a terrific mood, but that mood quickly vanished as he thought of his very pathetic piggy bank. So after a small bowl of cereal, he headed back upstairs to the deck of his home to try and catch some fish.
Thoughts drifting this way and that, (he is on a boat after all), a light bulb went off over his head. Pulling out his backpack, he reached in and pulled out his SE camera. This has surely got to get me a pretty penny, he thought. So he sold it on the spot without another thought. Six hundred and seventy simoleons later and Ian was a very happy fellow, especially since it meant he wasn't going to have to spend another day fishing in the heat.
Putting away his fishing pole, Ian spied a few deer and one lone raccoon resting on the island. Carefully and cautiously, he approached the animals, in hopes that he could pet one. The animals had different ideas, but didn't hurry away, taking the time to sniff him, before shaking their heads in what could only be, the gesture of rejection. Ian didn't care. He knew that someday it would happen and they would all be the best of friends.
Having the animals on the island was a great comfort to him, as it reminded him of days at home on the farm. Early in the morning, the deer would come out of the forest to the watering trough, to drink in their fill. If he stood very quietly by the back gate, the deer would watch him cautiously, but not run away, taking their time till they all had their turn at the trough. Then they would all take off in a synchronised group, back into the shelter of the dark forest at the back of the field. Once Ian had discovered the deer one morning, he had started the routine of filling the trough before heading to bed,
The racoons around the farm were as raccoons tend to be. A nuisance and a lot of extra work to keep them under control. They were particularly fond of his mothers vegetable garden and she was forever down in the dirt muttering under her breath, as she tried to repair the damage of the visit from the night before.
Shaking his head at the memory, and realising how hot he was, Ian made his way to his cool and dark refuge for a shower and a bit of a late lunch. Sitting in the quiet room, his newspaper already read for the day, Ian felt a bit discouraged. I have to be doing this all wrong, he thought. I'm a farmer and a fisherman, I should be doing better than this. And then it came to him. He was doing it all wrong.
"I'm fishing during the hottest part of the day when I should be sleeping!" he said to the air and threw his hands up in disgust
He gave himself a little mental slap for being so foolish. All those years of fishing with his father and they always started while the day was still night. How could I have forgotten such a basic lesson my father taught me, he thought.
He looked at the clock and tried to determine what time he should be waking and then sleeping in order to try a new routine. He decided that going to bed just before supper and waking around midnight would give him enough time to fish in the cool air, but enough daylight to do other things while he was still awake.
I'll get up and fish all night, scavenge and scuba dive during the morning and finish my day with a little painting before heading to bed. So feeling a little sleepy anyway, he tucked himself to bed at five thirty in the afternoon, to sleep until nearly midnight. He thought his plan was brilliant, but when he woke at eleven in the evening, he was in the middle of a nasty thunder and lightning storm. Great start to a new plan!
Not wanting to waste any precious time Ian began painting a picture in hopes that the storm would end and he would still be able to fish. But by the time he finished the painting, the storm still raged on. He sent the painting to the shipping box and began painting another to pass the time, grumbling the whole time at mother nature and her prerogative for destroying best laid plans.
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**This chapter is slated to be re written to include pics
He looked at the clock and tried to determine what time he should be waking and then sleeping in order to try a new routine. He decided that going to bed just before supper and waking around midnight would give him enough time to fish in the cool air, but enough daylight to do other things while he was still awake.
I'll get up and fish all night, scavenge and scuba dive during the morning and finish my day with a little painting before heading to bed. So feeling a little sleepy anyway, he tucked himself to bed at five thirty in the afternoon, to sleep until nearly midnight. He thought his plan was brilliant, but when he woke at eleven in the evening, he was in the middle of a nasty thunder and lightning storm. Great start to a new plan!
Not wanting to waste any precious time Ian began painting a picture in hopes that the storm would end and he would still be able to fish. But by the time he finished the painting, the storm still raged on. He sent the painting to the shipping box and began painting another to pass the time, grumbling the whole time at mother nature and her prerogative for destroying best laid plans.
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**This chapter is slated to be re written to include pics
Interesting how mother nature always has different plans! (Rec's and reactions done)
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