Speaking of sloppy seconds.....

Bank holiday and some serious rays, just as well as first mixed clan gathering of the year planned at BureBoi Villas and time to fire up Mark 2 again and anoint the meat. and not much veg. Yes that's charcoal and other salty gubbins in one of them jars to eat it says.

 

Certainly enough rays to add some sardines and anchovies into the mix. As this BureBoi has absolutely no intentions of jetting off to sonny climes anytime soon Portugal will have to come here.  Of course the Delta variant would have arrived at some point anyway but letting plane loads of people in from a sub-continent  seeing  a rocketing in cases for weeks to protect a miserly trade deal we can only blame on the gammon Brexiteer hordes for needing in the first place has been a disaster. Anyhoo, said sardinahs pre-plancha.

Free evening so why not head still shorts clad to my Island Paradise? Scorchio still but as the sun would soon be dipping behind the pines the Greg Wallace hat was set at a cocky angle to ward of some of the glare and given the dancing floats last time I started off on the swing tip.  Not for long though, far too clunky and even more line laid out for liners in the shallow water.

So, back to the Puddle Chucker, and perhaps the sardines and chilled rose earlier had sharpened some of my reflexes as a goodly proportion of the seemingly good bites were hit. First in the stink net after  a very determined battle was this daddy tench, and yes posed with a rhodo sprig. Got to be done, it's the law.

This daddy barry was snared in a ventral fin by the fiendish hook out presentation which also gave it some chance to pull back which it did.

Proper lip hooked this one, and it performed it's wet sack duties admirably with barely a tremble of it's fins once I had turned it from the pads.

Last occupant of the stink net was this one, late enough for the flash to be deployed.   I left the stink net and equally stinky mat to dry on a bench with the intention of returning in the week.......what I did bring back were two rapidly swelling ticks in the crook of my right knee. Let's hope no bulls eye rashes develop.

A truncated week, with late finishes,  and as the temperatures climbed I spent some time looking, not fishing, fuelled where I could with smelling the coffee stops, like this lovely brekkie, my first out this year.

Posh Suffolk chooks for sale in Gaywood.

Scoping out possible commute stop spots, bit worried the cormorants have cleaned it out so I'll check with those fishing it come the 16th before arranging a Dabbling Duck drink and fish with the venerable piscator and print maker TT and the Essex Loafer now he's left the canal systems for a while. 

Rivers have a tinge of colour so it's mostly about the bankside display at the moment, a good year for the kek (cow parsley)for sure.

The stinky net and mat? Still on their Island Paradise bench as the jiggy mud piggies are having sloppy seconds so no go for a while.