In fairness to the chaps after having a girlie chat, I'm trying to think of something for them, although I note that they did quite well in the hairdressing thread.....
Tricky, very tricky....
What DO men talk about?
Sport, cars, motorbikes, their hobbies,computers, women. Is that it ?
Ok then...
Sport. I know nothing. Nu -ttin! at school I was always the one no-one wanted on their team
Football.( Soccer to you Bill) Nah! Rugby.Nah!
My mum prefers rugby players to footballers. She says:" They're REAL men, not like these namby pamby footballers, who need their nappies changed if they break a nail!"
I like the New Zealand All Blacks, or at least, watching them perform the Hakkar ( is that how it's spelt? I couldn't be bovvered wiv looking it up) which I find hilarious.
Motor racing? Spare me from that ghastly whining cacophony!
Cricket? Yawn!
Golf? Well, that's quite relaxing to watch in bed late at night. Very soporific. Actually I do play crazy golf in my local park.
Tennis? HATE it!
Boxing? Oh please!
Wrestling? That's not a sport!
The Olympics? Tolerable.
How about fishing? I know as much about it as I do scuba diving, but Himself indulges now and then, though he's not in the same league as our Mr Pitts.
I have been fishing with Himself and some friends, and I must say I do enjoy it, providing the weather is good, the scenery is nice and I have a comfy chair so I can read or knit ( yes, knit) or simply observe the wildlife, not to mention the other fishermen.
Once, when staying with the In Laws and family, I was offered the choice of fishing with the men, or shopping with the women. No contest! Fishing! Much to the bewilderment of the females. I'm just one of the boys really.
Having planned your expedition, you have to get your equipment ready the day before, as it takes so long, and someone ALWAYS forgets something, like the bait. The women have to prepare MOUNTAINS of sandwiches and flasks of tea.
Next day, you get up at an obscenely early hour, and load up the car, and realise there's no room for the passengers, so you have to hire a taxi.
When you eventually reach your destination ( having had to go back for the bait) you then have to find a good place or "swim" as I believe it's called. This is where
the non -fishing folk need inordinate patience, as this is a process which can take many hours while they walk up and down, down and up, trying to choose between various identical spots.
Having found the perfect place, they then spend several more hours setting up shedloads of equipment. This is why everyone has to set off so early.
The first time I went fishing with Himself he showed me a pot of maggots, expecting me to go all girly and squeal. Huh! Squeal? I pick'em up I do. I also pick up worms, caterpillars, SMALL spiders, and various reptiles and amphibians. My lifelong ambition is to put one of those big pythons around my neck.
Enough of that.
When everyone is finally settled, the serious business of staring blankly at the water begins, with me being told to keep quiet or else, and not to say "poor little thing" if he caught anything.
I had a little moment of triumph once. We were fishing with my father in law, when Himself asked me to keep an eye on his rod while he went over to see Dad.
Of course, I spotted movement as soon as he had moved down the bank, but I had not spent many hours watching him fish for nothing. I did what I'd seen him do a hundred times-I yanked the rod upwards as hard as I could. Then I shouted for help.
He couldn't believe it. "You've caught something. How did you do it?"
"I just copied what I've seen you do."
"But I've been fishing for years!"
It was a two pound carp. Okay it wasn't a barracuda, but I was quite pleased with myself. Having weighed it, you put it back, and try and catch another one, or the same one, if it's stupid enough.....
Himself has never quite got over that day...
So the day progresses to the point where it's too dark to see, and,with great reluctance, our heroes decide to go home. That takes a fair while too, as the taxi has to be hired again ( no- one thought to do it in advance) and all the packing up has to be done.
The rest of the evening (what's left of it) is spent in discussing the day's events ad nauseum, and everyone retires; exhausted by all that staring.
How's that then lads?
Mr Pitts, I daresay you're not that impressed as you undoubtedly have some much more exciting tales, but I've done my best.
Goodnight
Sleep tight
Carolnoe
XX
