So it was a lovely Sunday and Gretha, she who must be obeyed, decided she wants to have a BBQ and I was commanded to go out and bring forth trout. Not being a man to hesitate at an opportunity to go fish, I briskly saluted, about turned and head out the door grabbing my water flogging accouterments with me. Not wanting to devoid the river of all its trout, I decided that the 13" brownie would do nicely (and it did together with wild garlic harvested from the river bank and salt and pepper harvested from the local supermarket.). After having gone for an inconvenient splash about in the river, I can assure you that the river is indeed wet and most certainly cold. Parts of my anatomy are only now recovering.