pathetic mudbugs are we

Graham and I went down to the creek yesterday, being the big fans of creek that we are. Stupid Texas. Where last time (a few weeks ago?) there were rushing waters and plunge-able pools, there are now rocks and rocks and more rocks. Very beautiful - large portions of the creekbed are rounded and carved and colored a kind of dusty yellowy pink, like some pulp-cover Venusian landscape - but not very useful for swimming in. What little water there WAS was muddy in a nastily leaf-mold-muddy way and warm as a grass-clipping-filled kiddie pool, though there were many crawdads and pretty little swimming snakes to watch. Mostly, we hiked around, unwittingly spoiling the new Harry Potter book to innocent passersby (which neither of us is reading, ha ha, share the wealth!) and sneering at icky boys who didn't know how to pronounce or identify water moccasins. I hope snakes crawl out of the foundations of their houses and bite them.

At least we didn't try and bring innertubes, though I felt a bit foolish with my goggles dangling out of my pocket. Heh.