All new perspective.

"Oh how much time I have wasted in the past"

I knew that when our long awaited bundle of joy came along there would be some time constraints added to our lives. Truthfully I don't think I have ever underestimated something so much in my life before. Three weeks ago young Brody arrived and ever since, time has been sucked into the black hole that is a new baby and I and JB for our parts have stood joyously smiling with teary eyes, shoveling our love and attentions into being there for him whilst barely noticing the world go on around us.

But as everyone says you begin to get used to the extra effort and ultimately life starts to settle down. I for one have now begun to have at least enough time to wipe my arse correctly and have lengthened my showers from three minutes and forty two seconds to a frivolous four minutes.

It wasn't that long after the lad arrived that JB suggested I might like to use a modicum of my paternity on myself and go fishing. Now at still less than two weeks in it seemed she had either gone insane or just wanted a little time alone with the kid without a worrying/annoying father sticking his oar in. Either way she offered and I accepted, although I must say that the only way I could console myself to actually leave was to convince myself it was an actual necessity, so as to keep my skills sharp should society collapse and I need to provide my small family with valuable protein by way of buckets of small zander and perch from the canal.

After literally tearing myself away I ended up sitting in Jeff's courtyard for an hour drinking tea then fishing for a further hour on the cut whilst looking at my watch. I reckon I caught a few fish but truthfully I didn't care as I just wanted home.
Then a mere three days later I was out again after waking for the boys six am feed. This time things were a little more relaxed and successful though once again my heart and mind literally were somewhere else.

It's worth mentioning at this point that I have made some adjustments to my fishing to help ease the transition of being a parent and an angler. Regular followers of this blog may have noticed that my fishing has gone from an all round approach aimed at many species to a focused one targeting some specific species. I can now see that this concentration on lure fishing is going to pay me back in spades as both of my most recent sessions were never planned and on both occasions I just grabbed a bag, rod and net and was fishing within half an hour. Hopefully this bait-less tack will continue to help me be the angler that I am and the good father that I want to be in the very packed schedule that is parenthood.

For now though I am a still primarily concerned with little more than my new amazing boy, but saying that a few fishy thoughts are beginning to creep back into my head, and I can't deny already earmarking a little Shimano lure rod I've got that looks just about right for a toddler to use as a float rod.

A painfully funny catch.

I was joined by Andy for my final foray to my new perch pool and I was beginning to rue the day I had waxed so lyrical about what I thought was the potential of this place. The biggest perch we had seen was barely longer than my little finger and I hadn't even caught it either. Things weren't going well with the warm spring-like sun beating down on the water. I had nearly diverted this session to the now well-conditioned river but after spending hard earned money on bait I wasn't about to waste any of it.

So far, since arriving and feeding generously I'd had not much more than a few small rudd and two dog eared hybrids to show for my efforts. The whole thing was made worse by the constant attentions of the small roach that although very interested in my half worm hook baits that were far too small to actually eat it and thus my float danced incessantly with the nibbles from hungry little mouths.

The last cup worth of tea was cooling in the flask and not wanting to waste that I reached behind my seat for the container. After draining the last of the warm sweet tea into my enamel cup I sat back, enjoying the hint of warmth that radiated through the metal cup. With only a single swig left I put the cup down on my bag. Just as I turned my head back in the direction of the water I caught sight of my float as it slipped away. Perhaps it was panic at the sight of a proper bite that did it but I jerked into action repositioning my feet as I struck. The instant I moved my right thigh, or more specifically hamstring, went into an instant spasming cramp. Anyone who ever gets these savage cramps anywhere in their body has my greatest sympathy, I can assure you. I have had plenty of these almost debilitating cramps at various times over the years, but never one whilst I was playing a fish. The only thing I could do was stretch out my leg straight and squeal loudly like a great big pansy. Oh and yes the lake which was on the last two occasions deserted was on this occasion quite well populated on this day figure that. After only moments of trying to ease the cramp my tense body cursed me once again with a second cramp in, if I am correct, what is referred to as the external oblique or possibly the transverse abdominis. Now I was literally lying prone across my seat rigid like a board squealing like a stuck pig and half laughing while trying to hold my rod in the air and play the first decent perch of the day.

Luckily though Andy was there to help and did the decent thing and sat giggling like a twelve year old girl in Justin Beiber's presence. Honestly in the end he could barely get up he was laughing that much as I writhed around playing the fish, truly embarrassing myself. Somehow and somewhere my hand found my net and stabbed it under the perch just as Mr Lewis arrived to help. Even more to his amusement with the fish now landed I went about performing a strange rain/cramp dance were I hobbled around in the sloppy mud trying my best to elevate my pain whilst swearing loudly for all to hear.

It turned out to be a real doozey and literally after ten minutes I still hadn't shifted it. I had no choice but to bite the bullet and power through the pain to sort out the perch. The damn cramp wouldn't let me even bend my leg to kneel on the floor and every time I did the pain shot through my leg. With little choice I just unhooked the perch quickly weighed it at spot on two pounds before grabbing a mat shot then releasing away from my peg.

It had been a while since I had cramp that painful and it left me looking a little more than pitiful hobbling up and down the bank for the next half an hour sliding all over the shop in the mud, trying rid myself of the echos of that painfully hilarious cramp.