Thursday 30 January 2020

Trumpets for Ears and an Oil Burning Pig

Happy New Year everyone,


Have we done that one?






Perhaps with the end of the month imminent how about The Last Post, Beating Retreat or Watch Setting by way of an opener.

Moving on from the nonsense of the hour, we shall concentrate on water.

Which is fairly easy as currently we have quite a bit. For regular takers of this guff, the hatch on the house is open five notches and Spring Bottom is in rude health. There are plenty of puddles through the wood and the water meadows have large swathes of standing water.

Here's one of the lane one morning last week.

This used to happen several times each winter, it hasn't for over five years.

At half time we can report that this has been a tremendous winter for groundwater fed rivers,

keep the rain coming.


The lark is on the thorn the snail is on the wing, the dog’s in his kennel and something’s not quite right with the world.

I may have misremembered that last bit, but the river is in the best condition it has been for some years and all bodes well for summer fishing.

We’ve been whacking through the wood of late. All that time on the sofa over the festive season has put quite a dent in the log stash. We’ve plenty stacked up about the place so we won’t run out yet but I have been gathering supplies from around the place for the splitting season in early spring. The woodland is out of bounds with the trailer due to soft ground so I have been using the pallet forks to transfer the stuff from the wood to splitting centre central behind the workshop.

It’s a steady old business and care must be taken not to overload the pallet forks as once the weight is taken, the steering can become quite light and new paths are forged through the undergrowth as we fail to make a left or right turn. It’s predominantly ash with a smattering of thorn so we will burn well next winter.

We’ve also dealt with a failed willow at the very top of this stretch that cashed in it’s chips in wind last weekend and a boisterous specimen on the bottom bends that had put on phenomenal growth in the last two years. We've also opened up thirty yards of fishing below the bottom bends that was previously fenced in when the paddock was used by my employer for raising litters of greyhound puppies. It's always held fish but the back cast is affected by fruit trees.

The valley is full of fowl, ducks and geese mostly, with a wide choice of puddles in which to dibble. The merlin is currently very active along the road although I have yet to be able to grab a photo. It’s an acrobatic low level flight along the road in front of the car that can last for a hundred yards before it dives away into the hedge. A dash cam may be the way forward.

Gravel is on the move in the river.

Which is what one would expect in the depths of a normal winter. High flow tickling up the stones and salmonids grinding out redds for spawning. Well the high flow is doing great things gravel wise and I don’t anticipate having to do much “tinning” in the coming weeks but spawning salmonids are few and far between.

Which is a worry.

After a pow wow with the EA last week, the river will be surveyed in the spring and the results compared to the last survey around ten years ago.



What has caused this drop off in spawning salmonids?

Well we had a lot of low water and some winters traditional spawning gravels were dry, but the urge for a salmonid to spawn is a strong one and alternative gravels are sought out. This stretch of the Dever is perfect for spawning, the results of the survey ten years ago will demonstrate that they were present in all age classes and in good numbers.

Another major event in the last ten years has been the implementation of The National Trout and Grayling Strategy. Many held the view that it was a far from perfect strategy, I got quite cross about it on here and in the press on several occasions arguing that “Regional” rather than “National would serve the trout and grayling of these Isles a little better.

Well, five years in and numbers of trout and grayling spawning are down in this river.

Might want to take a look at some aspects of that strategy again lads.

In aural news, I’m trialling a hearing aid. It’s quite a clever device that helps a bit, but with 80% of my hearing gone in my left ear, the best level I can expect a hearing aid to achieve is a level of 50%.

Today I called a visiting grayling angler Dom for much of the day until he politely informed me that his name was John.

Duff eyes, failed sense of smell and 1.2 ears, how did it come to this?

In further tales of physical decline. I recently entered our local shop, where I bumped into a lady of my vintage who I have known for a good many years. She is a bit of a card and once worked the till in the same shop. On one occasion I was standing in the queue while she served a well todo lady who was quite abrupt with my friend the cashier, the well todo lady was only halfway out of the door when my friend said to me rather loudly,

“And I thought I was having a bad hair day, did you see her barnet”

Which jerked the well todo lady's head around sharply while we dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Anyway, on this occasion that I entered the shop, she was attending in a customer role. I asked as to how she was, and she said “fine” (which she isn't) then countered with

“Ain’t you looking old, Chris”

We exchanged further pleasantries before I approached the counter, where another lady I have known for over thirty years was in attendance,

“Yes, you are looking old Chris”

I thanked them both for their comments and left with my purchases passing two other ladies, who I didn’t know, but declined to enter into the open season on commenting on my appearance but remained bemused by the manner of the local characters who seemed so frank in their day to day communication.

This weekend I was returning from my allotment, because yes, with the shortages predicted, we have taken on land. Climbing the hill towards home I came across the sister of the first lady who had pointed out my poor condition. Winding the window down to say hello, her first words were-

“Blimey Chris, you’re looking old”

I laughed and explained that her sister held the same opinion.

Two hours later, I bumped into the third sister, whose opening gambit was, yes you guessed it,

“Ooh Chris, you’re looking old”

I was quite pleased with my carriage, gait and general appearance at the time of each of these encounters, but a penny did drop. There are two brothers who I haven’t bumped into for a while. I may touch base with them in the coming weeks just to gauge their reaction to my shopkeeper like magical sudden appearance, and to see if the ageing process is mentioned at any point.

My suspicions are that a plot has been hatched to have a bit of fun with Chris from Bransbury.

I've got your number, I've got your number, vengeance will be mine.

Just read that bit back and I sound a bit paranoid,

It may well be the grey hair or possibly the chest that slipped a bit, but we are where we are,

In other news Madam has once again been called to the bar to don the wig and gown.

Jury service in Winchester to be precise.

In an effort to reduce carbon footprints the court have introduced a ruling that all jurors must arrive by public transport if they are to claim travel expenses. Our nearest bus service to Winchester is three miles away with a stop in the middle of nowhere. Park and Ride counts as public transport.

The park and ride is on the other side of Winchester to here.

Daily parking charges in Winchester are quite toppy at twelve pounds a day (It’s like they don’t want us to visit), so Madam currently drives a few miles past Winchester, catches an oil burning pig of a bus at the Park & Ride for a trip back into town.

Her carbon footprints are double what they would be if she drove into town and parked in the multi storey car park a few minutes walk from the seat of criminal justice.

What times we live in,


No comments: