My good friend Sylvester was looking very concerned.
“I really think I ought to get my junk out,” he said, sounding very distracted.
“Well,” I replied. “If you must!”
“I mean, some of these lures are very old. They’re junk really,” said Sylvester.
We were standing around a table in the greenhouse, in my garden. The smell of ripening tomatoes filled the summer evening air. On the table was a neat little pine box, containing some beautiful lures which Sylvester has made, as he is such a keen fisherman.
I inspected his flies, and I must say it did make me think I should keep my hand in. You may not think this to look at me, but I really do love outdoor sports, including hunting and fishing. I find the gentle rhythm of fly fishing very calming. Helping Sylvester sort out his fly fishing lures, and discarding those that are damaged or ineffective, is a periodic task I help my friend with.
I shall be writing before the end of the week. Now, let me help Sylvester sort out his flies. I’m sure he’ll appreciate my attention.
Fiona