and I'm not anticipating anything awful happening; today is what Cornish
living represents; after the cold, snow and enough rain not to disappoint
Noah, there's the faintest hint that spring is quietly stirring. The
snow didn't last for too long and wasn't anything like that which blocked
the A30 at Bodmin, but was enough to keep everyone in the village, or
out if you happened to be the milkman or postman, as the only exits are
narrow and uphill. The rain, however, caused localised flooding, streams
overflowed and the surface water made driving hazardous.
But today, wow! It's beautiful, around 12C, the sun is shining, there
isn't a breath of wind, a big tide has dragged the sea a long way offshore
and the waves are barely making a ripple on the beach. Little boats are
out, laying pots and drifting around looking for bass and mackerel. John
has given himself the day off from tearing his hair out, that's metaphorical
by the way, from wrestling with an updated version of a software
program that's gone moody on him, and has gone fishing. I know it's
akin to asking what's the meaning of life, but I ask myself frequently
do women hit their computer screens with a ruler or a copy of MacUser?
The fishing 'expedition' first required going to the Post Office and
buying a Fishing Licence, which needed almost as much information as
going through the US immigration apart from iris recognition. ... all
to catch one gudgeon and a plastic bag!
While on the subject of fish and fishing, we have a weekly call from
Phil the Fishman, from Newlyn, who buys directly from the quay; the
quality is such that it smells of the sea, it doesn't have a fishiness
like the dull-eyed, floppy fillets from Tesco that have an odd pong of
iodine and pee. Call me unadventurous but I know what to do with lemon
sole, dover sole, cod, monk, even megrim, ling and dogfish, but Jamaican
Red Tilapia and Vietnamese River Cobbler... really, Tesco, while we're
laying up boats, how do you justify selling fish that need a visa?
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