I read an article some years ago about a sociological survey which showed how the hobbies and pastimes of coal miners who had been made redundant diminished in significance once they had stopped work. I think a similar thing happened to me when I was made redundant last February.
I’m not saying that, overnight, I enjoyed fishing less – far from it. Rather, there was no reason for me to continue to use fishing as an antidote to my job, a job I had come to loathe. I had formed the habit of spending much of my working week secretly planning my fishing for the weekend, and to furtively scribbling this blog following my outings.
Freed from the mind numbing drudgery of the 9 to 5 I was able to fish as and when I pleased; spontaneously, as it should be. No planning was required, and the need to write up my experiences during the following week – a vicarious from of angling, if you like, became more of a yoke than a liberating experience. For a while I spent my time in a kind of Panglossian reverie, tending my allotment or fishing as and when I felt like it – nice work if you can get it.
Now, however, the urge to write has returned and I intend, once more, to update the blog on a regular basis. Thanks very much to all of you who have kept visting during my absence.