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May is a month
that I always look forward to. The weather starts to warm up and
of course its the month of the trout anglers delight and the
little beastie called the May fly. It’s the one fly that trout
snap up with out any thought of danger as there are so many
landing on the water at one time.
Many years ago Mrs
R. must have had a brainstorm and bought me one of the best
Christmas presents I could have wished for. The present in
question was in the shape of a nice wooden box containing a fly
tying kit. Apart from a selection of coloured silks, bits of
moleskin and old hares ears and fragments of undesirable material,
there was also a little contraption that you clamped to a table.
That in turn held the hook to which you made your attempt to
reproduce the May fly. With the aid of the little instruction
book, that was provided in the box, explaining the fine art of
tying your own flies; you were supposed to be able to make them so
realistic that even an old and weary trout, that's seen it all in
it’s time, would mistake your hand-made imitation of the May fly
for a tasty morsel.
So with that in my
mind I set about tying my first May fly. After about ten minutes
or so I released my attempt to create a May fly from the vice that
held it and compared it with the one in the book. Would it look
like a May fly to a wise old hungry trout? On closer inspection of
my masterpiece I thought that it would confuse the trout a tad or
two as it appeared to be more like a daddy long legs. Never mind,
practice makes perfect so they say.
I remember a story
of a young lad that joined a very snooty trout syndicate. There
were so many rules and regulations it was a wonder that any one
was able to put a fly on the water. One of the rules was that any
dry fly that was tied by hand, before it was used on the club’s
waters, had to be inspected by one of the members. This young lad
had in effect produced what he thought was a perfect May fly and
with his face beaming with delight he offered the fly to them for
their comments. The old major spoke up. “Dear oh dear lad! What
the devil do you think you are going to catch on that?
But have a go with if you must.” (The young lad’s
attempt may well have turned out like mine: a crossbreed.)
It was lunch time
when the young lad returned to the club house and walking into the
bar he was confronted by most of the old members. The young
lad’s face once again was beaming. He spoke so all could hear.
“By the way, I have just had the most wonderful complement paid
to my hand tied May fly.” An old retired doctor, who was sipping
his gin and tonic, shouted “you never caught a trout on that fly
of yours did you?” “No, no,” said the young lad “it was
like this. I cast my fly on the water, just a few yards from where
the major was fishing. Then, I would have never believed it if the major had not
witnessed it with his own eyes, the biggest May fly that we have
ever seen came down and landed on top of it.”
The month of May
offers those that attempt to fish with home made tied flies a let
out and this is in the form of what they call two weeks in May as
“duffers fortnight”. I
have never really found out the exact two weeks that this relates
to. But I believe it’s down to the weather, when the flies in
their thousands ascend into the air to mate then drop back onto
the stream. In turn the trout gorge themselves on the flies even
the ones that looks like a crossbred daddy longlegs.
I have never had a
problem with creepy crawlies, unlike Mrs R. She will go to great
lengths to prevent any thing that moves around on six legs from
taking up residence. Once the first sightings have been confirmed
of any thing that resembles an ant then it’s red alert at
Rushmore Towers. An arsenal of insecticides, concoctions of high
strength white powders and ant traps in all shapes and sizes are
moved up to the front line ready to do battle Its like a major war
campaign. First of all you must detect the headquarters of the
enemy, next thing is to fire a warning shot, this may be in the
form of a few good puffs of the white powder directly into their
under ground bunkers. This is a message from Mrs R. so as to offer
them a chance to move out. I have found that this light-hearted
approach has never worked over the years and it always resorts to
the heavy guns coming out. So it was no surprise that on arriving
home a few days ago I found that there had been a major
confrontation. In fact the whole building was surrounded by white
powder and it was plain to see that the war was over, at least
till next year.
Another beastie on
her hit list is the fly. Woe betide any fly that gets through the
first line of the defences, namely the hanging beads. As the warm
weather approaches these beads are hung just inside the back door
and according to the instruction book will, if correctly hung,
stop flying insects from entering. More to the point they don't
say any thing in the instructions about stopping six foot men with
two hands full of shopping from entering and for this purpose they
are very effective as they rap themselves around your neck. The
next port of call will be to bring in the big guns; namely the fly
sprays and hand fly-swatters made out of plastic. These will be
brought into the war against any thing that flies in the
restricted air space of Rushmore Towers. Only the daftest of flies
will make a break for the light of a closed window only to find
out what the full impact of a rolled up Radio Times feels like.
Spiders seem to be
the one thing that can, if they keep out of sight, have a long a
peaceful life. It seems that they have over the years adopted a
habit of keeping well out of sight. Maybe this is an inbred thing
to help them survive where others have failed, but as in any
population you have the foolhardy. He or she is the one that in a
moment of madness decides to take a stroll across the living room
carpet, and it always seems to be the biggest spider that's
strutting its stuff. But once spotted, it makes an all mighty dash
to hide under the sofa. At least it was fun to watch Mrs R.’s
vain attempts to apply a hefty blow with a slipper. Well that's
one that's got away. Well I never, this article in the newspaper
may be of interest to you. They say that if there is a nuclear war
then one of the only things that will survive will be ants.
Interesting that, don't you think?
Shoo
Fly Pie
This is one of my
favourite pies and very easy to make. First of all you make
yourself some sweet pastry so you can line a 9inch tart tin. Pop
this into the fridge to keep cool. Next find a mixing bowl and in
this dissolve half a teaspoon of baking powder with a quarter cup
of hot water then beat in half a cup of molasses. Once this is
well mixed add one egg yolk that's been well beaten. Remove the
pastry case from the fridge and gently pour the contents from the
bowl into the pastry case. In another bowl combine together the
following ingredients: half a teaspoon of cinnamon, half a cup of
brown sugar, three quarters of a cup of flour, a pinch of mace,
ginger, and powdered cloves, and last of all a little bit of
butter that has been lightly melted. Bring all these ingredients
together to form crumbs. Sprinkle the crumbs over the pie. Next
job is to slowly bake the pie in a medium hot oven, after ten
minutes turn the oven down and bake until the pastry case is
cooked and the top is firm.
A word of warning,
this pie recipe comes from a warmer climate than England. Once
removed from the oven it will start to cool, the scent of the
molasses encrusted with a topping of brown sugar mace, cinnamon,
and cloves will, if you don't watch out, attract flies from miles
around. So make sure that you cover the pie with a clean cloth..
PS Next months
cookery column recipe will be Ground Elder and Tatty Pie
Colin Rushmore
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