Yellow stairs

Deliberated for some time this evening about setting off for Scotland after hearing of a good salmon catch on the Tay again. But the ghillie put me off. We fish two beats there, turn about, and while one is fishing well (six fish today), the other isn't. Even if I set off in the wee hours I'd be fishing the poor beat tomorrow, with only a day on good water. It's an awful long way to go for that. So common sense defeated the wilder impulses (it wouldn't have done once) and belatedly I set upon blipping.

The London meeting was sort of OK. The TV production company is going to pitch a series to BBC2, using me in a consultancy capacity. They liked my original book title - Slaves to Work - that was never used. But I'm not sure I like the idea of some name presenter waltzing around with my material. I want to do that! The stairs are on the south bank, London, by the Festival Hall.

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