Reality slap - part two

I was back out on the marsh, fishing the drains, yesterday afternoon/evening - full of confidence and very happy with all my preparations. The weather has reverted back to the incredibly mild, as predicted by the BBC forecast, and "everything in the garden is rosy!" Early on Friday morning (22nd January 2016) I had been out and done a bit of pre-baiting. Five kilo's of particle mix, plus some diced Peperami, (for carp) and around a kilo of bluey sections (for eels), in total, had been introduced to three spots along a single drain - what could go wrong?
In all honesty; not a lot! It was a cracking afternoon out there. For the first time, in a long while, I failed to see any owls but there was still loads of stuff to look at. As it got dark, so the wildfowl started to flight over the marshes - there was quite a lot of shooting going on, especially in the direction of that "flight pond" I will be visiting very shortly. I was completely at ease, within my little world, and surely a bite would occur soon? Time simply melted away and, before I knew it, the clock announced that I should be headed for home - a complete and utter blank, not a single bleep!

A pairing made in angling heaven? 

Phone conversations, with both Sye and Benno, suggested that I might just have overcooked the pre-baiting? I'd probably fed these fish off? The scale of my introductions being disproportionate to the number of feeding fish present in the drain following such a dramatic fluctuation in the weather patterns. No fool like an old fool? Had I missed the blatantly obvious - overlooked a basic fact of watercraft - air temperatures don't always equate to water temperatures! I have placed too much faith in the forecast and not taken into consideration the time lapse in the associated rise in water temps?
I got some more bait into the swim, before I left, and have the opportunity to get back out there one evening during the week - we'll see.

I'd like to think that Fred (Crouch) would approve of this particular use of his reel?

If everything I did went according to plan, I'd be an expert - never something I have ever aspired to become. I am perfectly happy to be ordinary - it's where, and how, I'm most comfortable, which is very fortunate, therefore! An ordinary bloke, engaged in ordinary employment, in an ordinary place - yet able to marvel at the extraordinary via the simple gift of getting outside and looking. Not such a bad place to be when seen in this context?

How much longer will I have to wait before I am able to realise my dream of a carp on that Mk IV?