We're off to London tomorrow which is just as well as I over-reminisced yesterday and need to get away for a bit to rejoin 2022. I thought I'd just get up to date before leaving for the Big Smoke as I'll be a bit busy this week.
When I was 11 we moved from one end of the village to the other. We did this during the school summer holidays, which for me were between finishing primary school and starting at the comprehensive a few miles away, so it was a big summer holiday. Coincidentally, the daughter is in the exact same position in her life right now... she's 11 and if we lived in the village she would be off to the comp in September. What better time than to show her my childhood stomping ground I left at her age.
Yesterday we walked around to the other end of the village. This was my neighbourhood.
I spent most of my childhood playing in the fields out the back of our house with a few mates from the street. The farmer must have been very patient with us. I still well remember picking hazelnuts from this gateway. The gate has doubtless been changed in the past 45 years and the style is new, but that was still a hazel tree all these years later.
That gateway and style cross a small stream where most of my outdoor time was spent. This was probably the first time I've seen that stream since 1978, 44 years ago.
It's nice to see that lone tree in the field of sweetcorn is still there. I remember climbing that tree nearly 50 years ago and even then it seemed ancient. In my day this field was always pasture and at the end of every summer we'd build dens out of the hay bales and have wars between different gangs. The farmer didn't seem to mind so long as we didn't break up any bales. Just past the corner of the field to the right of the tree is a small apple orchard and I remember going apple scrumping some mornings before school.
The reason we all spent so much time in the stream was to catch loggerheads. Well, we called them loggerheads but the correct name is bullheads... I don't know whether loggerhead is a Somerset term or whether we kids just made it up. The tactic was to put a small bucket in front of the fish and then touch it's tail making it swim straight in. They'd all be transferred to a big bucket during the day and then put back in the stream when we finished. I had no bucket but when I saw this patch of open water I just had to give it a try. A skilled loggerhead catcher could do it freehand.
The first thing to do is find a likely looking rock to turn over.
You have to turn it slowly from the downstream side so as not to disturb the visibility.
And then concentrate like fuk.
Once the prey is spotted, slowly move your hands either side...
... and wriggle your fingers underneath into the stream bed and slowly lift...
And voila... after 45 years I still had it!!!
My first loggerhead in nearly 45 years!
I must admit I couldn't keep the smile off my face. The memories came flooding back.
The daughter wasn't nearly as impressed as I expected and didn't want to give it a try. Kids these days are hopeless.
And just to show it wasn't a fluke... a POV capture, or at least I think that's what it's called. I could have done with a GoPro helmet for full effect as I needed both hands during the crucial moments. This loggerhead had pretty good camouflage but was no match for my near half century old skills.
My second loggerhead in nearly 45 years! I wish I'd had a mother-bucket cos I reckon I could have filled it in a few hours.
These are caddis fly larvae on the underside of the overturned rock. If you leave them long enough they'll start to crawl around.
They make a protective shell out of the sediment on the stream bed and must secrete some kind of cement to bond it with... maybe calcium carbonate? They form a large part of the loggerheads' diet and also for the trout in Blagdon Lake, and many flies are tied to represent caddis fly larvae. I think the stream must be pretty healthy to support this apparently thriving population of bullheads and caddis flies. I was fearing the worst and half expected it to be dead and silted up. We also used to also catch a lot of eels, lampreys and even a few small trout many years ago, although eels have all but disappeared from most of the waterways in the West Country. They are in real trouble.
The daughter had had enough, so we walked back through the cowpod field, but not before I took a small rock from the stream for my collection.
And back past the farm. I used to go kart down that hill, although it looked a lot steeper 40 odd years ago.
And back past the house I grew up in for the first 11 years of my life. It's bigger now, looking like a couple of extensions had been added. We were pretty cramped back in 1978 with my sisters sharing a room. I was now having memory recall overload!
Heading back towards the village we passed this clump of bushes (to the right of the daughter) where we used to hide and shoot cars with our peashooters. A good shot on the side of car with a rock-hard dried pea makes a hell of a bang and many cars did emergency stops as they had no idea what had happened.
Here's a likely looking target coming down the hill. In the Autumn we also used to chew up blackberries and fire out the slush through a peashooter. When it splatters on a car windscreen it looks just like a bird shit which all go purple during the blackberry season.
Back past the primary school...
We used to like walking home along this wall, admirably demonstrated by my daughter although back in the day it would always lead to detention. I have no idea why the headmaster objected to us doing it.
But of course there was one last stop on the way back to complete some unfinished business.
This was a nice pint.
But this Inch's is absolutely fantastic and is my new favourite cider. It's sharp and tangy and I have no idea how I've not come across it before. It's served in a great glass as well.
After a swift couple of pints it was time to head on back. A lovely summer's evening.
As luck would have it, my mother and daughter had an activity in the kitchen planned... to make tiffin together.
Thus freeing me up for a rare chance to relax and reminisce about all my reminiscing that day...
Ain't it just amazing how emotive smells are and how a smell from your childhood can bring the memories flooding back. It would be great if you could bottle up a smell to use at will. I'll be taking my new rock back to Korat with me although I'm sure the fresh stream smell will soon fade in the heat of Isaan. And get your head around this... I could have stood on that same small rock 45 years ago while catching loggerheads in that stream as a kid. The stories that rock could tell. It really makes me think.
The smell of stream... the memories it brings back. I've been sniffing that rock all day.
It must be the second best smell in the world.