Monday, June 11, 2012

It's in the fridge

It's telling you that the brain is need of something when you find yourself looking in the fridge for porridge. I'd like to claim it was a lack of the good things, diving and fishing and maybe bringing home the odd pheasant or making the exotic dish or two. But I'd be lying. Yesterday I caught whitebait - well, not whitebait, but little engraulids of some sort), collected oysters, cockles, had a dive at red bluff (not worth it very scoured) caught a couple of Aussie salmon and Norman (my neighbor) and I made some goose sausages (I also had my first whitebait fritter. crunchy.) and shot a pheasant. Which I hung up to talk to my boy James in Zimbabwe... and blasted Wednesday pulled down and ate. Not a popular labrador.

Anyway, so maybe it's writing I ought to do.

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