It's A Fickle World

 

This time yesterday I was standing waist deep in the Tweed on a very nice private beat.  There were tons of salmon around but for reasons best known to their fickle selves were just not on the “take,” and remained difficult to catch all day.

Sometimes, it feels the same way about life these days.

 Fortunately, dinner and a few drams in The Townhouse in Melrose helped drive the fishing demons away. Shame it's not as portable as the fishing rods........... 

A bad day fishing is better than a good day in the office.....

 

Cobble Pot, Arndilly, River Spey

My biggest worry is that my wife (when I'm dead) will sell my fishing gear for what I said I paid for it.  ~Koos Brandt

Being a diligent and circumspect lot, all five of my avid and loyal readers out there in Blogland will have noticed that posts have been somewhat infrequent over the past week.... in fact, there haven't been any. 

I decided to repair to my spiritual homeland to feed the soul and dust off the winter cobwebs by standing waist deep in freezing water for a few days, waving a long pointy thing around.

The Spey is a majestic river and somewhat moody and atmospheric at this time of year. Arndilly though, is a heavenly beat and it was a privilege and a lot of fun to fish there. The water there wasn't cold, it was bloody freezing. We had it all, wind, rain snow...... just the thing for the weary commuter who spends too much time in the office.

Back now though, and normal service is resumed and this; this is what it's all about; an 8lb springer caught by my companion.

8lb springer caught in Jock's Tail, Arndilly

Bugger!

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

I thought sciatica was something pregnant women got; it's not and it bloody hurts - I can only liken it to being given a swift kick up the arse by a grumpy coal miner in tackety boots every ten minutes, swiftly followed by a dead leg from a prop forward in a really bad mood. Not really whats recommended the week before salmon fishing.

Of course, the very worst thing you can do when afflicted by some catastrophic breakdown in the body's engineering is to Google the problem. You're never going to get a good answer. Sciatica throws up a whole list of discouraging words like nerves, discs, vertebrae, trauma and best of all, spinal tumour. I'm going to do the grow up and mature thing that men do best and stop googling and hope it goes away.

Bugger.....