Waters & words

Books and thievery

It was a very disappointed thief who broke down my patio door in the middle of the night with an axe, in search of a flat screen TV.

All he got was an angry Great Dane and a sea of books. I only wish we had managed to give him some fast flying lead too….the bastard!

But let me put the angry thoughts of retribution aside for a moment and focus on his disappointment, and my delight: Books.

I hadn’t realised it, but books, and more specifically flyfishing books, have been in my blood for a long time.  I remembered this favourite from my school days:

Joe Humphreys

And I remembered my delight at being mentioned  in one of Tom Sutcliffe’s newspaper articles, when I was just a schoolboy, that later became part of his first book: “My way with a Trout”.

I remember taking fly-fishing books out of the school library …the same titles, repeatedly:  “Where the bright waters meet”, by Harry Plunkett-Green, and titles by Skues and Sawyer.

Then the other day Tom  sent me this snippet of his “borrowed books” notebook:Toms old book register

And looking at my own collection  now, I realise that it has swelled somewhat over the years.

fly fishing books-1

And I think how I relish the titles by Middleton and Duncan, and Grzelewski and Rosenbauer and Engle, and Gierach, and French, and Traver, and Leeson, and where do I stop……. I have read them all, many several times.

“Where do you get the time!” proclaimed a friend the other day. He wasn’t expecting an answer, but I gave him one anyway: “I don’t own a TV” I said. And I realise now that while the man in the dark of night who threatened to shoot our dog spoke impeccable English, it can’t have been Graeme, because he knows I don’t own a flatscreen.  (One step closer to catching the thief, you might say.)

My wife and I were out to breakfast one day, and I had parked the car out front of the restaurant. I was about to lock the car when Petro pointed out that I had left something of value in full view. I re-opened the door and hid whatever it was under the floor mat. Then she opened her door and together we hid a few more items….you know, used handkerchiefs, toothpicks, that sort of thing. The sort of thing that people break car windows for. Then our eyes moved simultaneously to the back seat where I had a stack of secondhand fly-fishing books that I had just collected from the post office. We looked at them and then at one another and fell into laughter.

Later over coffee we discussed which country we might emigrate to, if ever we did that, and we decided that we would choose a country where one’s fly-fishing books were at risk of being stolen.

4 responses

  1. Thanks Andrew, A great early morning smile.

    Like

    March 2, 2017 at 7:35 am

    • Thanks Ilan. Glad you enjoyed it!

      Like

      March 2, 2017 at 10:13 am

  2. As one who also has time for books because he owns no television, I’ll say that it’s shameful that the idiot who broke into your home could not have been a decent guy who came knocking at your door to ask if you had any fly-fishing books he could borrow. What a wonderful world, then, it could be (at least in some countries!). Thanks for a fine post.

    Like

    February 28, 2017 at 11:17 pm

    • Thank you Walt. I think my underlying message is that wherever you live, people will steal things from you, but that old fly-fishing books are unlikely to be on their list, so that in the owning and reading of them, we can take refuge in a place not offered by a flatscreen TV.

      Like

      March 2, 2017 at 10:23 am

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