Every time I’ve been on the point of getting the rods out things have conspired against me just lately. Take this morning if you will. I should have gone fishing with Dave Colclough but couldn’t because I had to take someone for a hospital appointment. So Dave had to go on his own and then found he couldn’t get a bite. 
I found this out when I rang him on the mobile. The conversation went something like this:
‘Had owt?’
‘No, not a bite.’
‘Anybody else had owt?’
‘No, there’s nobody here except me. Except for this lovely little robin that keeps coming and sitting by my feet. It’s ever so nice and friendly. I’ve chucked it some food. Oh look, it’s eating some. It’s ever so friendly. Just a sec, I’m going to take its photograph.’
There followed some shuffling and then a click.
‘There, I’ve taken its photo and it’s still there, eating the crumbs I’ve thrown it. It’s ever so nice and friendly. The b*******! It’s in me baitbox. Hang on.’
More scuffling noises and then a thud.
‘Missed the thieving get. Yer sit here and feed ’em your best sandwiches and that’s what you get for your kindness.’ Oh, I am p****** off. Wish I could get a bite.’
I think I’m glad I couldn’t go….
