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Sauce for the goose

I don’t know what they’re feeding the geese at Flintstones but it’s going through them like a dose of the proverbials and means it’s almost impossible to walk two steps in a straight line without encountering something that squirted from a goose’s arse. Which is no fun when you’re wearing Crocs. I’d originally gone to check out the river to the north but that’s going to have to wait until another day when I have more time and access to an excavator. Meanwhile, Ray and I spent a couple of very happy hours catching small rudd and F1 carp of various sizes on ledger and float. There was a lovely sunset and the fish fed enthusiastically until dusk but although it’s pretty enough, Flintstones is a bit one-paced. A bit like Electricity Pond but with bigger fish.


Pickwells on the other hand - I like the look of that.
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