Nothing wrong with Pam Ayres.

Thanks for the fishing.

When we drive over to see my dear old Mum and Dad, we pass by Stanford in the Vale, a nice quiet Oxfordshire village. Without fail, I remind Tina ‘That’s where Pam Ayres is from.’ Helpful, fascinating? I don’t know. Tina tends to consider my utterances in silence. But look, she’s an interesting lady, that Pam Ayres, a much loved family entertainer, she doesn’t eat babies in secret and she can spin a good rhyme.

The Old Grey Fellow struck lucky when he married my Mum. Among her may fine qualities was the access she provided to several miles of the river Loddon in Berkshire. You can read about this fishing in Tom Fort’s latest masterpiece, Casting Shadows. My Dad certainly appreciated it. He wrote this poem in July 1963 for my great grandfather, The Old Colonel.

RCR Barder poem.

We don’t write all that much poetry, Colin and me, but we make some really nice fishing rods. Here’s one we made earlier.


We do like that Hilaire Belloc’s character, Lord Finchley. You know, the one who quite correctly pointed out that:

It is the duty of the wealthy man
To give employment to the artisan.

Best of luck when you go fishing and until next time, stay well and look after yourselves,