Look what just swum into my life: handed in tonight by my kind
fisherman neighbour Alan. I’m going to bake it tomorrow morning, with some lemons, for the Harvest Thanksgiving lunch after the service. A good result all round – it was going to bean salad. Not that there’s anything wrong with bean salad; but you have to love a nice fresh sparkly rainbow trout, don’t you?
I’m reading ‘Narrow Dog to Carcassonne’ by Terry Darlington; but it sounds like there aren’t many trout to be found in the murky canals cruised by the Phyllis May. Maybe further on in the book – I’ve just crossed the English Channel with them, and taken a tour round Belgium. Soon we’ll be back in France, on the Canal des Ardennes. It’s looking good. Terry and Monica and their whippet Jim have taken to life in a cigar tube, and it’s just as traumatic as you would expect it to be. Jim is a bit of a drama queen, and scrounges pork scratchings everywhere they go. I think I could survive a barging life. With a dog. Not sure about surviving in such close proximity to a husband though. Alas this isn’t a choice I have to make right now.