comanche

It's my bash-about rod. Bamboo with a ( slightly bent) greenheart tip. The "flamed" pattern gives an otherwise cheap rod a bit of character . Probably pre war but of no value whatsoever . Luckily the fish aren't fussed about what they are caught on. In fact they probably would prefer not to be caught at all

Not just rabbits. Some of his "better" stories weren't really suitable for print l liked the one he told me about desperately trying to unblock the drains in his street before the council got there and discovered certain incriminating body parts

I met Phil through Ditchshitter in the early 80s and had been in touch and met from time to time ever since . I only hunted with him once to my great regret . He used one of my photographs in one of his books which l considered a bit of an honour. A couple of years ago ,and completely out of the blue , he gifted literally hundreds of his traps to me and l did detect a change in him . I had the feeling that he clearly had other things to do while time was on his side. Phil was a ruthless hunter in his heyday . Mercenary too ; "lt's all about the pounds " was one of his sayings .

Took a friend fishing on the farm pond. Rather embarrassingingly l insisted he have the tench hotspot ,then caught three tench myself from the swim next door. He was happy enough with 20 or so roach and rudd though.

Baby garden spiders .Great picture!

Bottle feed for a start , then put him on a feeding tub with a teat so he can feed himself. Last year we had a rejected triplet that roamed the stable yard being bottle fed by all and sundry. By the time she was big enough to go out she wasn't sure if she was a person , a cat ,dog or horse.

Things were going well with just one old ewe left to lamb. I've always hoped in vain for a ewe lamb from her to carry on the line but she's only ever knocked out rams . Finally she popped- out a little ewe! Then it kinda went downhill when she ejected three more lambs to make quads. One unfortunately was DOA , which left the unholy trinity of triplets. Being a bit dwarfish , one is being spoilt in Special Needs ICU - AKA , a ballast bag full of hay with a heat lamp . While the others play swap the mummy in the paddock

Not without risks but , your right; . The ewes had been staking out their private "nest" sites under a hedge for a couple of days ,which must've been so much less stressful than being penned along side othe ewes in a barn. Especially as several farmers around here have had their ewes I longer than planned due to seemingly overdue lambs.

Decided to lamb outside this year and was met by these little things at 5.30 this morning. Luckily all seemed to have gone well as they were a bit overdue and so fat l was fearing triplet trouble .Twin boys from one old ewe. And twin girls from a first timer.Just one old girl still to go fingers crossed .

It great seeing the youngsters on the bank and catching good fish too. I always experience a real shared sense of triumph when my daughter or Grandchildren out fish me . Which they usually do. Yesterday's quick session on the farm pond didn't include anything like the big fish in the foregoing posts but threw-up a couple of oddities. I only had half a handful of very old maggots and minimal tackle so was happy enough to ping out a few rudd . When the grubs ran out l spuddled a few worms from the dung heap. The pond holds a few tench so when my float started

"Trim phone"- l remember them, and the starlings copying it!

Just to show that all is not lost and common sense overrules the "woke" mentality amongst at least some of the younger generation. My friend's lad and his mates play football during college breaks . Without the benefit of football kit people kept forgetting who was on whose side and tackling or passing the ball to lads on the wrong side. Simple solution; the white kids form one team and the brown lads the other! Highly un PC but a common sense solution. It only came a bit unstuck when the coloured lads were a man short so were palmed off with the "fat white kid" to ma

In our teens we had two local banger tracks . My first car was a rough 63 Humber Sceptre and when l took it for some welding the guy's eyes lit up thinking he could get it off me for banger racing . Apparently they were highly prized in the banger world. He grudgingly fixed it though. A year or so after l'd sold the car we were at a race and there was my old Sceptre ; painted in the welding guy's colours but still sporting the hand painted go- faster flames that l had inflicted on it . Watching "my car" race was exciting . Especially as the end of the afternoon it was the o