it's raining again

First dryish forecast for days, hoped to be able to click on the out of office by 12.30....

On the way in stopped for a posh coffee, nice North Norfolk inspired vinyl wrap on the posh portaloo. I hoped it stretched to pan tiles  on the roof.

Out and about this morning which always brings me joy, sea so near yet so far on a prostrate stop ..No lovely hot Heacham Lavender sausage roll though, the mint sucking grey pounders were getting into  a kerfuffle with the Serco Trick and Not Trace QR code entry system and I couldn't force myself to wait in the miasma of Parma Violets (Not Parmo, we are a long way from the Boro) and mothballs.

 

Things conspired to push my early finish to 2pm, and I was famished having been sausage roll free but managed to find a Brays Cottage Pork Pie (Chilli) in Nanny P's Little Farm Shop on the way in one of the Rudhams. Very long and thin are the Rudhams. The Brays Cottage Pork Pies won't make you long or thin but they are very, very good. I'd say the Best. Ever. 

I must have followed ever other mint sucker not still kerfuffling in Heacham to my destination, a regulation 40 mph what ever the speed limit, hands clasped 10 to 2 on the steering wheel hence I ended up with less than an hour on the river as I needed to be home for the Prodigal's famed (he tells us) Chicken and Hock Pie, with the worlds creamiest mustard mash, ever. That's two pies, and two evers in  a  day.

I headed for the section just above the mill sluices and the protective booms, and with a lovely run just down the reed  fringe. Double or triple reds, and my over gunned 5AAA Avon, needed though with the brisk pull to the sluice .No wind so a joy to trot and a lovely mixed bag, just two small roach, the  rest netters, with metallic copper colouration, most unusual. They really pulled back against the fast flow.

A couple of vibrant chublets which I'd hoped for, and several dace, this out of focus one being the best.

A phalanx of hooded lure boys (they were spotty yoots) turned up, all Lynx and bravado but no nets, mats or forceps and bringing with them a sudden squall and fierce cold downpour so I upped sticks and headed for that waiting second pie.

The future on my river is looking bright, those roach are to die for and I can't wait for the chub to drop the let. They've spread into the tidal length now below the mill. I say mill, it burnt down before my time but the sluices remain and have a proper fish pass for eels and sea trout. But not migratory pies.