Nice Things, Nice Times and Observations of Ego.

The sun shone brightly today, it was nice to open doors and windows and actually feel the heat.
  I strolled along the Grand Union Canal earlier to the smell of Lilac, Horse Chestnut blossom and barbecues. It doesn't take much to make this land of ours come alive. People cycled and jogged their way around, and drank alcohol and chatted loudly. Birds sang, I am sure a blackbird did a rendition of 'Barbie Girl', that timeless classic! The swans have four newly hatched cygnets and proudly showed them off to me. Flowers bloomed, I'd almost forgotten about the little blue flower with the yellow middles. Buttercups, campion and bluebells also on display.
 The sun also shone on my recent visit to norfolk. I knew it was going to be a good trip when all of the following items were purchased within an hour of arrival.

Two vintage banksticks, efgeeco maybe? With attachments...lovely. Also a fine Dundee cake and some local ale, I was happy. I also bought one of these...

Now, to most of us that's an old Oxo tin, I can feel my fellow blogger Paddy getting excited at the prospect of it being full. However, to anglers of a vintage before myself, that thing there is a tackle box. I've seen photos of many of the old time greats, Walker included sat heron-like aside a pool, with rod and oxo tin. It'll fit nicely with my traditional kit.
 Of course, Lady Sarah wasn't left out, I bought her a nice vintage ring and strolled along the deserted beach pictured above and tried my utmost not to laugh when she was engulfed by a stealthy wave, even the seal thought it slightly amusing.

Later, in a local hostelry known for its fine cuisine, I found myself enjoying a few glasses of Nelson's Revenge and perusing the ceiling.....

Just how much valuable, and to my mind useable fishing tackle must be hanging up in public houses?

 Back at home I was pleased to receive my confirmation to fish that hallowed pool on the English/Welsh border.......

 There's a nice map of the swims on the back. In the past year or so, it seems that there has been a move towards re-naming The Willow Pitch as Walker's.  I know it has always seemed strange that, shall we say, lesser anglers, have swims named after them. However, for me, despite Walkers undoubted part in the pools history, I prefer the name 'The Willow Pitch'...there's no willow anymore but the very name somehow encapsulates the magical aura of the place in a timeless way that 'Walker's' just doesn't.
 What about angling then? Well I have planned and re-planned trips,only to be scuppered by various things from floods to marauding friesians.I will have to go soon though, the term 'climbing the walls' is starting to ring true.
 The time away from angling has given me much room for thought and I found myself contemplating the angler's ego. It's something we all have to greater or lesser degrees. It drives to the core of manliness, and the majority of anglers are men. Has angling, to some, become an extension of "Mines bigger than yours"?..On our favourite social media site I find that certain names will regularly put a biggun up for display, often the first comment will be "How big mate", like it really matters. Are we obsessed with numbers? Is it not just about 'being there'?
 Even one of my favourite places to be online, a place of purer thoughts regarding the noble art is holding a big fish competition.
 Of course, blogging can be classed as egotistically saying, "Look at me", we are all guilty. It's not so much a complaint, just an observation. You will never see another catch weight on this blog though. With luck I might even get out to try to catch one by the time I next post.