Gated community

Depressing radio on in the charabanc as I headed down the A140, that nasty little runt sending his rifle and drone fodder to see the wheat fields, over Kiev and down to the sea. Shite speak from the Kremlin has it that the Judo Sensei was triggered into his nuclear option threat by comments from the dull eyed and insensitive Liz Truss. One big step up from  Alexander "Boris" Johnson effectively condemning Nazarin Zaghari-Ratcliffe to life imprisonment as a hostage during his disastrous tenure as Foreign Secretary also.

Needed some respite from all that and it was good to do so in the company of the Essex Scribbler, lately the Loafer on what started as an almost balmy spring morning in the border lands between the Devil Dog and Rose Pink Chocolate Box Chocolate lands of respectively Essex and Suffolk No roker, but trotting and chubbing would be the order of the day. I'd almost set up the shorter rod for trotting but lazily started off with my 15 foot Greys and an apparently over sized avon float in a cramped swim. Stuffed the Loafer for quantity and relative quality before inevitably loosing the lot in a tree.

Here is the Loafer tempting 2 inch tiddlers (I did say relative quality).

A quick foray by the Loafer up a predatory dyke was foreshortened by otter activity and the Loafer set up camp briefly in my swim. I had a couple of the better size above on his rod, he took back control and simply attracted more tiddlers so we upped sticks and set off to the next Chocolate Box village for  a retackle and cup of tea from the Camper Van. Whilst mashing up our cheapo loaves we of course had to test the bend in each other's Avon rods which must have looked good on the CCTV. I don't need a Korum Allrounder Quiver Rod but now I've handled the Loafer's impressive tool it's all I can think about to be honest. We were to  be fishing the Essex side of the river and of course the Loafer had lined up some traditional Essex spectator sport, namely how comically can a fat man traverse a five bar gate. Which I, even as a complete novice excelled at. (Though I did swerve one and manfully waded through ankle deep mud on the way back.)

Mash and for me discs of better quality bread as hookers. My  first  attempt and I'll make them bigger  next time. These were cut using a small section of Marble Run tubing.  Simple flake torn out of  a sliced of that better quality Warby for the Loafer. 

First banker was a bust for both of us so we pitched in on a wide bend 

and despite the wind my tip stabbed round several times providing much merriment to the Loafer due to the ineptness of my dyspraxic lurch strike. What you need Buh is a flick of the wrist he said, and proceeded to demonstrate with a perfect example of said flick of the well exercised wrist and was in to a game little Essex chub. Me being too ample to get up from my position didn't quite frame the action shot but you get the general jist.

Bites dropped off so we made our way to the deffo nailed on banker as the balmy spring day turned into a wish we had bough the big coats and gloves day as we hunkered down expectantly.

I managed a unstruck tremble and the Loafer reported a missed wrapround, the levels were dropping fast  and I need to  beat the traffic so one last stop off at the bend on the way back to round two of  fat man traversing a five bar gate. and the pace had certainly quickened and more gravel was exposed but the Loafer winkled out another slightly bigger perfectly conditioned Essex chub. Conveniently the Loafer had put away his by now dry net so I had to haul my bulk up to expertly net it with my now wet net which is par for the course. 

A splendid day indeed topped off with free flowing traffic on the way back and very well behaved Little 'Uns at bed time.