Resembling a modern Eskimo mixed with a Viking, Dad is out ice fishing on the lake. He sits on an overturned bucket, wearing a thick brown snow suit, oversized insulated boots, gloves, hat and scarf. His dense bushy dark blond beard protecting his wind burned face from the frigged air that is whipping across the barren lake. With auger in hand he drills into the thick ice, sets the auger aside and places the line of his small ice fishing rod into the hole. With a mill worm skewered onto the hook and a round colorful orange and white bobber tied closer to the pole. The bobber floats on the surface of the exposed water to alert him when a fish nibbles at his hook.
He smiles under his beard, waving one of his oversized mittened hands in the air. This is the signal the children have been waiting for. The ice is thick enough for them to skate on. The four quickly go to gather their skates and rush down the hill to the lake. They are very lucky the ice between the piers has been blown clear of snow and had froze quite smooth. The four sit on a bench, changing into their ice skates then rush onto the ice.
He smiles under his beard, waving one of his oversized mittened hands in the air. This is the signal the children have been waiting for. The ice is thick enough for them to skate on. The four quickly go to gather their skates and rush down the hill to the lake. They are very lucky the ice between the piers has been blown clear of snow and had froze quite smooth. The four sit on a bench, changing into their ice skates then rush onto the ice.
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