Epic fail repeated

 Wordle. One of those fads that once you start you just, well, carry on with. I think I'd got to about 18 straight "wins". Until yesterday. Simply ran out of lines. That threw my day into a slump of despair usually only portended by the sight of a single magpie that all the tipping of non existent hats and "Good morning Captain's" in the world can't resolve. Throw in a non-descript consultation with the Quack with appeasing chest and shoulder x-rays to come and a need to have the tribes washing on the line before I could head out, I was prevaricating,  not even livened by the Loafer's news of 3 chub in the bag. 

Got to the river to find two cars already there. No point following two loads of mash down each likely spot, not in the mood I was in anyway and the wind was doing my head in even more so settled for a bash on the pond to use up some hemp and caster but I wasn't really at the races. Made more grim by knocking over and breaking my bait water, breaking it and depositing most of said hemp and casters on the grass. Some interest but no hook ups on the second string bag down the edge which meant something was down there and probably "normal" or method feeders might be on the cards next time. Then it rained. Sodden stuff chucked  in the charabanc and bailiff duties performed  (one crayfish between three anglers reported) it was off home. Thankfully one of the tribe had sensibly got the washing in.