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The fact that I am once again officially licensed up makes it difficult to resist going fishing. I haven't wet a line since January and I'm now very twitchy about the whole thing. Ian sent me a link to a video about where he lives in British Columbia and although there was a bit too much fish porn for me, it's got the synapses in my brain that look after angling a-firing.

The weather's not too bad. It's warmed up a bit, though staying below the 18 degrees my mum promised when I spoke to her earlier in the week. Maybe that's what the temperature's going to be inland, in balmy Bucks.

But now there's a fly in the ointment. The school has phoned. Our youngest daughter has been horsing around at school and the horse has given her a kick. There's talk of ambulances. The missus is on the way there in the car now. If it's a hospital visit, then my fishing trip will be scuppered. If that happens, then as soon as she's recovered there's a big dog house here with her name on it.


Finally after - literally - years of trying, I've had a proper paid-for article accepted by Waterlog, the world's most peculiar fishing magazine. Should you be inclined to seek it out, it's in the Spring 2006 edition, somewhere near the back, and it's called Ray and the Needle.

Meantime, Sean has phoned. There may be a way out of my close season dilemma. It has something to do with flies and trout. And I think there may have been in a boat in there somewhere...More news when we have it.

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