False Spring, Real Fish

Chapter 147: False Spring, Real Delusion



Northwest Arkansas decided to play a joke on everyone: give us a few perfect spring days, then slam us right back into a freeze like “just kidding.” Even the plants at Tractor Supply looked offended. Rows of sad, wilted “spring herbs” sat there looking betrayed. (I feel you brothers and sisters)



But right next to them? Chicks. Ducklings. Actual tiny, fluffy, peeping distractions.



I spent an unreasonable amount of time staring into those metal tubs, trying to figure out who was a chick and who was a duckling like I was being tested. Then I wandered over to the seed section and immediately became a different person. Suddenly I was a future gardener with a straw hat, gently harvesting tomatoes and herbs like I have my life together. Never mind that I currently live in a van and don't always know where my tomatoes are.  It’s a weird in-between phase... half nomad, half “can’t wait for my house to exist so I can buy throw pillows without doing spatial math.”



That night at Osage Park, I spotted movement in the grass and went straight into New York mode: rat. Definitely a rat. Turns out… baby bunny. Tiny, round, and very alive. I immediately asked Nelson if we should “rescue it,” which he ignored while the bunny casually hopped away like it had better things to do than deal with me.

Just in time for Easter!


Chapter 148: Fish, Feelings, and Mild Chaos

Midweek we leveled up into Official House Decisions: stairs, paint, toilets. The glamorous stuff. I was fully engaged until grout samples came out... then I hit my limit as a homeowner. I picked white and emotionally checked out.

No one needs this many choices of color for grout. 


The house site itself finally looked like something real... stakes (we are done with stakes, okay?), strings, trenches everywhere. It felt less like “future home” and more like an archaeological dig. I walked around narrating my imaginary life there, including fake parking and fake bathroom usage (just mentally, don’t worry).



Back at camp, the weather swung again... suddenly warm, kids everywhere for spring break, RVs multiplying like they were on sale. I lost our van twice just trying to walk back from the showers. At one point I genuinely wondered if we had been towed.

Retro cool van!


Then came the weekend at Roaring River, which started with a Cybertruck parked in our campsite like entitlement on wheels. The owner was “just charging for a bit,” which… sure. After some polite nudging (and probably realizing he’d be kicked out repeatedly), he left. But not before using the campsite to wash his kid’s feet. Full service.

Once that was over, things got good. Beer outside. Chips. Beef noodle soup. Nelson passed out immediately after, as expected.




Saturday was peak fishing chaos. Nelson caught four trout before I even fully woke up. At the cleaning station, I had to politely ask a woman to stop pointing with a knife, which feels like a reasonable life boundary.

Buddy from a neighboring site was hoping to be invited into our van.


Round two of fish smoking went much better!  Less overcooked, more “we actually know what we’re doing.” Lemon slices, careful timing, and suddenly we’re producing respectable food. Even baked potatoes from leftover heat. Look at us.




Sunday? More fish. Of course more fish. Straight onto the fire this time... no time for the fancy prep like dry brine and pellicle forming. Honestly still great. I even cooked mushrooms on the open flame and briefly felt like a wellness influencer.



We wrapped up by visiting David the naturalist (Henry the snake is still on his food strike), and he gave us surprise gifts. Nelson got a fishing tool he still doesn’t fully understand (a catch and release tool), and I got a mini fish net frame for our pom pom eagle Tweety.

Back in Bella Vista, I grabbed Chicken Lai Lai for dinner, which felt like pressing a reset button on life. Sun was out, weather behaving (for now), and for once everything felt… suspiciously normal.



I’ll take it.

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