A most obliging species

 Legals and lunch done in Ipswich then a battle through the tail back from a  carriageway closure at the A14/A12 interchange meant I was late for a meet up with The Loafer, up from his lergy bed after  a prolonged lay off. Chub on the menu, buckets in hand, annoying folding seats in the car boots. 

Pathetic little slices in this Warby blue loaf,  selected to cut down in bulk in the big green bucket, Two baits to a slice and mean thin slices too.

As his his way the Loafer had a chub almost before I'd sprawled myself, chair less on the bank.

As he passed for swims afar I moved into the next swim down and first cast the tip  relaxed slightly, tapped then jagged round. In and out of near bank snags, and that lunge they do into the waiting net. A  plump chub #6 hook looking small in it's big, slobbering gob. Standard chub size for this lower end of the river. We sniggered about reported 6lbers in the "new club stretch" above the Mill.

 

One more for the Loafer, standing heron-like to fish before we trudged back to the cars. That sickening moment when you can't find the car keys in the key pocket. Is the car locked Loafer? No, and there, blinking accusingly were the Loafer's keys in the ignition barrel. Phew as Wordle has it when you crack the puzzle on the last line.