Who am I?

An individual, of no great importance, who is unable to see the natural world as a place for competition. I catch fish, watch birds, derive immense pleasure from simply looking at butterflies, moths, bumble-bees, etc - without the need for rules! I am Dylan and this is my blog - if my opinions offend? Don't bother logging on again - simple!


Thursday 3 November 2022

Lowly beginnings

 "Never forget where you come from" is a lesson which Mum & Dad tried to teach me, and my two brothers, as we grew up in Hemel Hempstead. From our original  council house at Cole's Hill, Gadebridge, all the way to the three bedroom, semi-detached, home on Warners End Road, opposite Cavendish Grammar School, the advice remained the same. Over half a century later I'd like to think that all three of us are still able to relate to those early years and recognise how fortunate we've all been to now be in the situations we find ourselves? To be perfectly honest, Bev and I quite often have a quiet moment to appreciate the journey we've experienced over the past twenty-two years. No silver spoons, no-one owed us a living, we've grafted for what we now have, although Mum & Dad's estate has provided us all with a substantial inheritance. Why all this heavy shit? I don't know really but I've been looking at some very old photos of Pike which I caught during the crazy years of circuit water, specimen hunting, and the associated publicity seeking lunacy which accompanied the antics. 

Man! They really were lowly beginnings. I've spoken with Sye, my youngest brother, on many occasions about these times and how we really thought we were the dog's bollocks! The truth couldn't be further removed, we were only kidding ourselves, deluded clowns at best. All that mattered, to me, was getting another photo in the Mail or Times and hoping that David Hall would print whatever drivel I'd concocted, as an article, in Coarse Fishing. Sadly the more often this happened, the more deluded I became, as I started to believe my own publicity - what a twat! This wasn't "council house" it was "care in the community" stuff. Looking back through old photo albums (remember them?) has just served to demonstrate what a superb journey angling has provided me over the years. 

It has to be another demonstration of the aging process, that unattainable gift of hindsight, which can only come with experience. No amount of wisdom, from outside sources, will ever prepare an individual for the lessons life will provide. If you're going to learn, then you have to live! It's a very simple concept for an old man to perceive. As a younger version? I knew it all and nothing an "old fart" had to offer would change my outlook, hence it taking so long for me to realise my failings. Funny, but I wouldn't wish to change a single thing. As my Dad told me, a few days before he passed away "No regrets". I'll hopefully be able to say this to Benno when it's my turn, but I've a few more Pike to catch before that happens, God willing?

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