Tuesday, September 23, 2008


We were staying in a fishing cottage so my father-in-law could spend the week failing to catch anything of note. One day a fisherman round the corner from us caught quite a big fish. Someone else had stopped to look, so I took Baby Babs to have his first look at a fish. The man didn't say anything but quite clearly didn't want us to look so we left. He was a rude man. Then it turned out he was an editor of some regional fishing magazine and thought he was the bees knees. He obviously thought I knew who he was and was trying to get an autograph or a photo or something ridiculous. "This is me with Syd, the local editor of Fishing World, do you know him?". Honestly. He swanned round the place like he owned it, shouting out to anyone in range how many fish he had caught recently. He ate for free in the cafe and had loads of free gear, obviously through his job, but he didn't half show it off. Horrible man. Most of the fishermen were a bit odd really, they really think they are it, but frankly they are all a bit sad and I am glad I am only a football widow, they don't usually have much to brag about, well not in my house anyway :-)

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