Rod in Hand

First things first. The film with Ms Binoche (reported upon yesterday) often came back to me today as I stood with my rod in my hand. Let me make it clear that her performance is fabulous and the review by the woman in front that I reported is probably down to the wilfully obtuse storyline. It may appeal or may drive you nuts.

Now, about this rod, it is new and everything a chap would wish for from a rod. Stiff! Yet flexible. A most wonderful present; and I was so distraught about my old rod - I caught it in a door in a shed and snapped the top off it. The pertinent point was that it had been made by my dad for me when I was teenager. Those days won't come again, and neither will my Dad, but the new rod is thing of beauty. It didn't catch any bliddy fish mind, and Lawrie was hauling them in. I reckon I need to think more about my flies, and less about Ms Binoche.