More Dross

The winter solstice approaches. Good.
Highlights of a dull week..... Several good off road runs through the mud and across the woods and meadows, learning Slaves "Sockets" on the guitar and in doing so making an unholy ( beautifully distorted, with added feedback ) racket, the misfortune of Man Utd and their massive headed, humourless, pompous manager, receipt of a "home made" Christmas card from TT ( clever b'stard ) and catching Lord Conc of Weeley red handed in the cafe on Harwich pier.Let me tell you more....

Conc text me to say he was "catching whiting on H'Penny pier". I thought I'd pop down and give him a look. I stepped on the pier and out of the corner of my eye, caught sight of a large, bald headed man in the cafe ordering a huge breakfast. Yes, Lord Conc, watching his rods from the comfort the cafe.
One of our mates said " That's not the menu above his head, it's his order ".

What's That Noise ?

It's the sound of the bottom of a barrell being scraped in this most pathetic of blog posts. It's fecking December for god's sake. Yes, I'm bloody bored.

Inspired by TT's perhaps accidental photo of his "study", "office" or "man cave" ( call it what you will ), here's a few of my untidy, windowless retreat, where I sit on winter evenings listening to Marc Riley on 6Music, whilst poncing about on the internet, reading, etc and dreaming of the spring.

Full of fishing gear, CDs ( twenty odd by His Bobness, a similar amount by Neil Young ) and lots of other gems, books ( though fewer since the November purge ), my boy's PRS electric guitar which I have on permenant loan, bespoke framed pictures, press cuttings, a couple of photos of Cameron Diaz ( don't say why ? It's obvious ), wine, hats ( sixteen and counting ), PC, digital radio, maps, old race numbers, tide table and more fishing gear. In fact, everything I need and want. It's a bloody mess though.

Note photo at top, courtesy of Mak Baines.

Right, got to get back to watching that paint dry. Toodle pip.

2015

December, dark at half three. Crap.

Fave stuff of the year......

Seville marathon - Feb 2015

Seville marathon. Great race, beautiful city. And it's warm.....even in February.

Hungry John with a big catch of codling and skate

What a fantastic day in April with Hungry John. We only fished the flood tide and had eleven big roker to 14lb and fifty six codling between 3 and 5lb.

Mason and "Young Charles"

Wrabness wood, with Mason and Charlie. In March and April, full of wood anemones..It only lasts for three or four weeks, but what an incredible sight.

50lb plus sting ray from the local beach in May. I was rather pleased with that.

Cornwall for a week in June walking the south west coastal path with Bongo. Fanfeckingtastic.

Chesil beach, in glorious July

Dorset, a glorious week in July. On Chesil beach in shorts and T shirt catching mackeral and scad on light spinning gear. A young lad about five or six came along with his dad and caught a trace full of mackeral as a huge shoal passed by, chasing the food fish up on to the beach. Amazing.

My favourite bass spot on the river

South west Ireland

September, a week in south west Ireland with the Turdster. Good weather, loads of fish, plenty of laughs, a few drinks. Life doesn't get any better.

Books 

Clothes, Music, Boys - Viv Albertine . Great auto biography, gripping.

Born To Run - Christopher McDougall . An incredible investigation into the Tarahumara tribe in Mexico. Read it.

How To Be Free - Tom Hodgkinson . Not a new one for me, but I've re read it. Half total bullshit, half really interesting. Never boring.

This Boy - Alan Johnson . An auto biography by a politician that barely even mentions politics. A tale of shocking poverty and a refusal to be beaten or become bitter.

Music

Everything Everything - Get To Heaven . I used to really dislike this group. I can't explain why this changed. I don't think I've ever gone from loathing to loving a band. Strange, interesting with some top CHUUUUUUUNES.

Anything by Sleaford Mods. I'll understand it if you hate them.

Mark Lanegan Band - Harvest Home . Rough blues I'd call it.

Prodigy and Public Enemy - Shut 'Em Down - Middle aged blokes kick bottom. BOOOOOOOM !

Sound and Vision

Time for a bit of culture. Well, my kind of culture.

Hear This.

Slaves - "Sockets"

Watch This

BBC Storyville,  "Cartel Land". An extraordinary documentary, about the effects of the drug trade on ordinary Mexican people. Watch it on iplayer, it is brilliant.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b06q7csp/storyville-20152016-9-cartel-land

And This

"The Ecstasy of Wilko Johnson". Another Julian Temple film. Me and the boy saw it at a small venue in Colchester a month or two ago and it's being shown in full next week on BBC. Dont miss it. Fantastic.

I See A Darkness

The barbarians are not only at the gates, they've kicked them in. Time for concerted action.

Mid November. Just when fishing should be at it's best, the codling have disappeared.  Well, probably chasing herring in the upper layers, where we can't catch them. On the other hand, I did manage to get a couple of stone of herring, fresh off one of the Mersea boats, so that's the roker and pike bait sorted.

Me and Lord Conc did go "dragging" the other day though. This consists of casting out a 6 oz lead and huge treble hook, attached to 100lb braid and pulling in all the gear fisherman have been losing.
Satisfying in a childish way, reminds me of looking for lost gear as a kid. Makes you look like a bit of a pikey, admittedly.

We got a load of leads that Conc is currently sorting out. I fully expect to be given all the crappy ones.
I had a run today through the woods and along the marsh, covered in mud and thoroughly drenched, the smell of the decaying vegetation lingering in my nostrils as I raced the darkness home.
I stopped by the wood and watched a stoat chase a screaming rabbit round and round, no more than a couple of yards from me. The screaming attracted three magpies, which waited until the victim had stopped struggling and moved in to squabble with the stoat for the fruit of his labour. "Red in tooth and claw" indeed.

Jonah

"A person who carries a jinx, one who will bring bad luck to any enterprise". Otherwise known as TT.

This is a pike

It took over a year to organise, a day piking with Mak Baines and one of Upwell's finest, TT. TT turned up rattled after a horrific three hour drive... the less said the better.
We picked our favourite stillwater, reliable and scenic. We had high hopes. I told TT we hadn't blanked for three years.
We blanked. Nothing else to say about the fishing.

Approximately 33.3% more guff than usual was spouted. Soapboxes were mounted and bete noires ( I don't know how to get the thing above the "e") raged against.
For your information, subjects included.....

Clarkson ( yes, again )
Radio 4, good things e.g Desert Island Discs
Radio 4, bad things e.g Everyone speaks with the same posh accent
The decline of the north east
Lesbians ( I don't think TT likes some of them )
Martin Amis - He's rubbish
The Pike Police
The Fens
Bands we've seen - Between the three of us, practically every decent band since 1967
Corby and Cammy
Russia - What a crap country ( this is fast becoming my hobby horse )

Highlight of the day for me, without doubt, was TT's "Tales of a Street fightin' Man". Your secret is safe with us John.

Another pike

Autumn Leaves

The Grange, Alresford

Some proper autumn weather about. Can't say I like the dark, early nights, but it's a beautiful time of year.

Along the old railway track on the Colne

In the words of local legend Martin Newell.....

In Autumn Attic

Autumn came to Wivenhoe and slowly
Turned to ash the opal of the sky
Lovers took the last train out of Clacton
Drunken insects zig zagged home to die

Dutiful, the widow of the summer
Drifted through the apple scented halls
This year's girl-most-likely-to was hanging
Rusty leaves on musty redbrick walls

Westerlies, the stagehand of the season
Moved to shift the scenery away
Ruffled up the river down to Rowhedge
Drew the evening in to close the day

Somewhere through the trees, a train to London
Sparked the overheads and slid from sight
Deeper in the woods a dog was barking
Someone on the station said goodnight

Huddled in the pub, the early drinkers
Turned to see the windows spanked by rain
Not to hear the calling of the curlew
Nor the ghosts of children in the lane

I walked past the Grayson Perry at Wrabness the other day. Certainly an interesting building, don't know whether I "like" it, but worth a look. To my untrained eyes it looks like Hansel and Gretels's house.

Crappy tides this week, but in a week or so I'll be back on the beach and there's a piking session with Wak and TT too. Happy days.