There is a small and apparently insignificant lochan in the far north west of Scotland in which I have unfinished business. It is, regrettably, the subject of a typical ‘one that got away’ story, except that ‘it or they’ got away not once, not even twice, but three times. Given the difficultly of reaching this lochan (a five-hour ‘up and down’ hike across tough terrain), I am beginning to despair of ever being the victor in my struggle with what must be its tiny population of trout. But given that a population of tiny trout is what it most definitely does not have, I am determined to revisit it – despite its remoteness – and once more endeavour to extricate its finned residents from their natural habitat.
I first cast a line in this lochan two years ago when on a wilderness camping trip with two friends. Nestled close by the much larger loch we were meant to be fishing, it could so easily have been overlooked – and indeed thankfully was by my companions – but I sensed that it was worth ten minute’s attention and so set about prospecting round its limited margins with my cast of sedge-style wets. Within two casts I was attached to a clearly bigger than average trout which showed its displeasure by thrashing about on the surface and making such vigorous headshakes that our attachment was short lived. Whilst delighted to have hooked a better fish, its loss shook me and I found myself sitting in the heather replaying events in order to work out whether I could have done better and have landed it. I reached no great conclusion, but resolved to try again some other day. After all, I knew the trout wouldn’t be going anywhere – the tiny lochan offered limited spawning potential and no link to the larger loch. I couldn’t imagine it held more than a handful of fish and I also surmised that being so small and unassuming, the chances of it being visited by another angler were as remote as the loch was. I just wasn’t sure when I would be able to undertake such a long walk in order to do battle again, so I doffed my cap to the trout, wished it well and made my way back to camp.

Assynt – plenty of fishing for all.

This year I returned with my best friend Sean Elliott. I did not rush back to the lochan with indecent haste but I must admit that I did not spend as much time working my way along the banks of its large neighbour as I perhaps should have done, for I was eager for my rematch. I was pleased that I remembered the layout of the lochan as there was a reasonably covered approach behind a large boulder that allowed me to get close and I recalled that from this position I would be able to cover most of the fishable water. It’s funny how passion can do that – if only my memory for my PIN numbers was as good…
I cast, full of anticipation rather than expectation, and remarkably was rewarded on only my second cast with a cracking take from what was clearly a bigger than average trout which again showed its displeasure by thrashing about on the surface and making such vigorous headshakes that our attachment was short lived…déjà vu??? How could I have let this happen again??? Well, like it or not, it had – and I was left sitting by the lochan again shaking my head and cursing my lack of ability or whatever cruel luck was dogging me. Big wild fish in the relatively sterile northern waters where I do most of my fishing don’t come along very often and so I knew I had, once again, missed a golden opportunity.

Don’t ignore the small lochans – this is where monsters can lurk, undisturbed until your fly lands in front of them…

Perhaps Sean could do better? On meeting up, I discussed my missed chance and suggested that Sean might like to try his luck at the end of the day when we would be passing the suitably-rested lochan again on our way back to camp. Funnily enough, he jumped at the chance.
Some five hours later and having briefed Sean on his best approach route, I took myself to the far side of the lochan and sat ready with my camera in the hope that he would succeed where I had failed. And within a few casts he did, connecting firmly with a cracking fish (perhaps my fish?), and unlike me he managed to stay connected for more than a few moments despite the fish again making a great commotion at the surface. Unlike me, he looked fully in control and I suspect we both began to think that he was going to succeed where I had failed, but just as he drew the spent fish towards him, it made one final lunge and Sean, with his line so taught, could do nothing as it found its freedom, slipping off the hook. Foiled for the third time!
So it swims there still…and I will undoubtedly make the effort to go back and have another go, as I do love a challenge.

Sean Elliott about to tempt another wild Assynt brown trout in yet another nameless lochan – will this be one for the glass case?

Anthony Glasgow

I am in serious training. I have 3 weeks until I am running a relay in the Edinburgh marathon.  High on endorphins, I am becoming quite addicted and I wonder if I am starting to bore people with my running times and distances. Smiling and giggling to myself for no reason, I am especially bad when the sun is shining. It would be best if I could wipe the smile off my face. Appearing quite mad to strangers, I must be extremely annoying to miserable people with all my bouncing around.  I walk quite strangely the day after my runs. I sort of waddle and get up very slowly with strange facial expressions. My bones creak. People are so very polite, they do not pass comment.

Three times a week, for an hour each time, I run with two friends and the dog.  Occasionally a child accompanies us on their bike. A great deal of therapeutic ranting and panting can be done during this time.  I have several scenic, rural running routes to choose from. They all involve wildlife and strange noises.  Last week two Deer ran out in front of us.  There are always Pheasants, Rabbits and Lambs. On lucky days we see a Red Kite or two flying ahead, a Goosander, the odd Hare and of course my Heron.  Irritatingly Action Man, home for a rare long weekend, saw an Otter on the river this morning.

If only I could stop rewarding myself with those glasses of wine, Mars Bars and Walkers Sensations crisps that are essential to help keep my strength up, I  would be as skinny as a rake.  I have noticed that all my shoes are becoming too big for me.   Am I shrinking? This is a worry, I am quite small already. Action Man looks gigantic next to me. I really cannot face going shoe shopping, but I am sure Action Man would not want me to trip over in shoes too big for me. He will understand when I tell him.  I will make sure to give him a nice big glass of wine first.

The novelty of oyster catchers has worn off a bit now!

The novelty of the Oyster Catchers has worn off slightly.  They have taken to tweeting loudly in the early hours.  I am convinced they have purposely targeted my house. I am being stalked.  They practically deafen me with their screeching at 4.30am on the dot every single morning. I have moved into the spare bedroom and put earplugs in every night.  They fall out and in the mornings I spend 5 minutes looking for them without my contact lenses in. It is all a bit futile and my temper gets a little frayed.  I cannot see a thing.  The children are very helpful during this time.

And what of Action Man you may be wondering. He has been busy at a career’s fair in Perth, an interview with his careers advisor in Edinburgh and has a CV from which he is battling to remove the good old Army three letter abbreviations.  He sadly does not live with me during the week.  He finds me so much sweeter in small doses. He graces me with his presence on a Friday and runs off quickly on a Sunday evening with the dog to the peace and quiet of an Army mess where meals are served to him with a smile.  He surprised me last week by arriving home 3 hours early.  He was still in his uniform. It may have been the endorphins but I was really quite impressed. I really do find him quite pleasing to the eye. Things would be just perfect if he could leave all his bags, shoes, washing and kit in the car and not make a mess whilst in the house.

The river front in Callander.

According to my son, I am the best mother in the world.  This heart warming news was delivered after his swimming lesson last week as he guzzled fish and chips next to the River in Callander.  Nothing nicer than a fish supper with extra vinegar and a can of Irn Bru on a Friday night.  We might see some Ducklings if we are lucky.

Got to keep my strength up, I am in training……

Moira Douglas

In her new, touching, funny blog, which is exclusive to Scottish Field, Moira Douglas recounts the trials and tribulations of returning to Scotland after years away as an army wife.

12 years, 11 houses, 5 countries, 2 children, 2 dogs, one Action Man. If only I had not watched An Officer and a Gentleman so many times.  In hindsight, it is possible I may just have got a little bit carried away…..

Last Summer, Action Man came back for R & R from Afghanistan. It was really quite glorious.  Oh the reunion. I just cannot tell you. There I was patiently waiting at Preston station in a red dress with heels. You know, Preston, the romance capital of Northern England.  He had a tan and lots of bags that messed up the house. He was a little thin.  We drank lots of wine and I tried to feed him up on healthy Scottish food of the fried variety and Marks and Spencers nibbles.  We went to Scotland for a holiday. The midges were really bad, there may have been some clegs thrown in and I am sure they had teeth. I cried with happiness as we crossed the border.  After Cyprus, Yorkshire, Canada, Folkstone, Shrivenham, the Falkland Islands and Preston, not forgetting the two postings back home in Scotland, we were finally back on Scottish soil. If only my little heart could have spoken. No words, just singing.

We bought a house near the hills, our very own first house. We had been looking for 4 years. It had not been plain sailing.  I had given up.  I then discovered that just when you are on the verge of giving up, the very thing that you have tried so hard to find just appears, as if by magic, when you least expect it. Sometimes, things are just meant to be. We liked it immediately, it was the walls, they are magnolia. I know a lot about magnolia walls.  The British Army love magnolia.  They buy the paint in bulk.

So here I am exactly where I want to be, in Scotland, in a lovely village near the hills and a river that has Herons.  Sometimes I see a Heron flying over my house. It stops me in my tracks and brightens up my day.  I am sure it flies slowly just for me.   Action Man says we can have a pond in our garden, he is so very good at pandering to my whims.  Oyster Catchers have started to make an appearance, early in the mornings, well before I should be waking up.  I love to hear them.  Not sure how long it will last though.

Every morning there are Ducks in my garden.  They just stare at me when I let the dog out and wait patiently for me to throw bread at them.  They have stopped getting on top of each other which is really quite a relief.  Between the ducks and the frogs in the school pond my son has been asking too many questions.  It was turning into breakfast time entertainment.  I managed to spend 2 hours one Saturday morning on Google reading about the breeding habits of birds.  Action Man made me a bacon sandwich and two cups of tea while I did my “research”.  It is really quite fascinating.  Swans mate for life and can die of broken hearts. Ducks on the other hand choose a new partner each Spring.  Action Man has been briefed that he is a Swan….he agreed quickly.  After all, Ducks can end up on Chinese restaurant menus if they are not careful.

Twelve years ago, I was like a Duck, in the mood for breeding.  We have a daughter aged 11 and a son aged 8. Action Man has hinted on a number 3.  I have suggested a new dog.  My breeding days are over.  The pain relief is not strong enough. I now have other priorities.  I planted flower bulbs in a garden that we can now invest time and money in.  No more moss covered lawns.  I also need some paint in bright colours for my magnolia house.  From now on my life is going to be magnolia no more, although magnolia does go with everything and you never get sick of it…..My husband cannot wait to get back in to his shooting and fishing after so many years of no time to follow his passions.  This is the story of a military family as they move from Army quarters and Regimental life to the new adventures of life in civvi street.

PS   I hate shooting, what is with those socks?

It is a dangerous misconception that angling remains the biggest participation sport in this country and therefore, by extension, its continuance is assured. We may be in grave danger of over-complacency as the demographic of ‘regular anglers’ testifies. Our angling congregation is getting older and this is a perilous state of affairs. If we lose the inflow of people into fishing then we lose those who value our wild fish and their habitat.
Figures from Sport Scotland reveal that the number of young anglers in Scotland has remained static over the last few years at 30,000 – only 6 per cent of under 16-year-olds. Ian Robertson, once project manager for the Scottish Country Sports Tourism Group, warned in a Scotsman article in March 2009 that angling could go into a serious decline because older anglers are not passing their skills. “Unlike sports such as football or rugby, where players retire at around 30 and go in for coaching or refereeing, anglers don’t ‘retire’,” he said. And this is where we now have a problem. If we allow short-term complacency, inertia or lethargy to win, our sport will be the long-term loser. With that, I believe, our countryside and population will be the poorer.

There’s no disputing the joy on the face of this adult beginner…

So why not make it your resolution to introduce (or re-introduce) someone to fly fishing when the new trout season starts? All the better if that someone is a youngster.
Fly fishing can be daunting to those ‘not in the know’. I should know – save for a long dead grandfather, none of my family fished and so I was very short of advice and encouragement as I endured a long and spectacularly unsuccessful apprenticeship. Not until my mother asked a wonderfully kind gentleman in our village to take me under his ‘angling wing’ did I begin to feel I could become proficient in the sport that I was so keen about. His gentle encouragement, advice and most of all his time, is what made the difference to me on my journey to a lifetime’s enjoyment of angling.

Not quite a master of the casting art – but on the way to catching his first trout: a beginner enjoying his first day afloat (Grafham Water 2010).

Were it not for him I may not have persevered and I would likely have been someone lost to angling forever. Now, I’m no fly fishing pro nor guru, but think of the loss that would have been – one less voice positive about fishing to counter the growing band of ‘antis’, one less (heavy) consumer of all things angling, one less supporter of local (and not so local) fisheries, one less guest in various fishing hotels…it all adds up. None of these areas can really afford to lose another consumer and think how much better off they’d be with even one more supporter.

Despite the pull of the Xbox – youngsters still enjoy a day out on the loch.

Given the ever-growing number of competing activities on our younger generation’s time, we need more than ever to have our current angling population engage with potential young anglers and to show them how rewarding a pastime it can be. I believe that enthusiasm and passion are contagious and by actively seeking to promote our sport to potential young anglers we have the opportunity of passing on our love of angling and the countryside to the next generation. There really is no great secret – simply the drive to get others involved.
Over the last few years, I’ve succeeded in getting a number of my friends and colleagues back into fishing – simply by re-enthusing them by my own obvious passion…and more importantly I ‘sealed the deal’ by taking them out fishing and by trying to show them a great day. This often meant sacrificing tackle to them, coaching them in fly casting prior to the trip and then taking them to the right sort of water for them. This was sometimes a small, rainbow-stocked water or sometimes a remote lochan full of free rising brown trout – what was important is that I tried to give them the best chance possible to be successful – plenty of time for blanking once they became hooked!
More recently, I have also been fortunate enough to work in a school and this has allowed me to run a pupils’ angling club. The rewards of teaching youngsters fishing are immense and I am privileged to have seen a number of young anglers develop from beginners to competent practitioners over the last six years.

A moment to treasure – my son, Frser, about to return his first ever brown trout caught ‘all by himself’ a couple of years ago.

Such trips will see you play gillie all day at the cost of your own angling time – but I think that is a small price for the reward of seeing someone become captivated by our wonderful sport. I do recall, however, a weekend four years ago where I took three different ‘beginners’ out, one on the Friday evening, one on the Saturday and one on the Sunday and I discovered that there can be too much of a good thing. By the Sunday, when I had barely cast a line for myself all weekend – despite splendidly favourable conditions, my patience was not what it had been on the Friday…in particular when my novice hooked a trout having absentmindedly dabbled his fly just by the boat as I attempted to unravel my own fly line from the outboard propeller…
If you are worried about how much of a difference you can make as an individual, it is reassuring to know that you are not alone in seeking to promote angling to the next generation. We have the likes of the Angling Development Board of Scotland (ADBoS) – the group that drives the development of the sport in Scotland and the Scottish Anglers National Association (SANA) – the governing body for Game Angling in Scotland. Established in 1985, SANA now represents the interests of all game anglers working with other related bodies and environmental interests to protect and enhance the Scottish aquatic environment in order to take game angling through the 21st century.
In addition to these there are other organisations such as Angling for Youth Development, and a host of others including William Rodger and Eoin Fairgreave’s ‘Tweedstart’ who are all worth contacting to further this cause. Tweedstart is an excellent example of the modern vision – it is much more than teaching people to fish. It’s also about making people aware of the importance of good habitat management and the environmental considerations in sustaining healthy river systems. All very laudable, because we need our youngsters to appreciate the environment perhaps even more than we need them to fish.
My own resolution this year is to take forward my own development and to investigate pursuing the Scottish Game Angling Instructor’s Certificate (SGAIC) run through SANA. The primary aim of the course is to promote effective teaching skills amongst angling coaches and so I hope such advancement will help me to further promote skill and enthusiasm to those I instruct.
Not all will feel the need to become quite so involved – but whatever the level of support you may feel inclined to give, any involvement is better than none – if each of us makes a positive contribution to just one young potential angler it all adds up. The future of our sport is very much in our own hands. So, go on – make the difference – take someone fishing and share the passion!

Anthony Glasgow

These are dark days if you are a wild trout angler, both in reality if you live in Scotland and metaphorically. With the start of next season many months away there is little to do but reflect on the season past and make what preparations you can for the forthcoming one – and in many ways rather than helping raise your spirits such preparations only serve to highlight the deprivation of one’s passion.
In reflecting on days past with rod in hand, my fishing diary comes into its own. In saving me from my rapidly failing memory, its roughly jotted notes easily transport me back to the lochside to relive days good and bad (but thankfully overwhelmingly good). I am sure that I am not alone in enjoying memories of good fishing days by the fireside with a dram during these winter nights…
My diary notes that my 2011 season started on the 15th of April with a visit to one of my favourite local waters, Frandy in Upper Glendevon. Whilst this is a predominantly rainbow trout water, it sits on high moorland and has a head of modest brown trout to make it an attractive enough venue to a wild water enthusiast such as myself. Over the years I have been fortunate enough to experience all manner of natural spectacles whilst fishing Frandy – with the sight of 10 kestrels all hovering over a small area of hillside being a highlight. However, this first trip of the season was a short 3 hour affair snuck into a busy weekend but I recorded a successful foray with 5 Rainbow and one Brown all to small black buzzers albeit my diary also noted that my old waders were in their death-throws and were leaking nicely…not really ideal for April in Scotland.
A high spot of my angling year was my annual visit to the Wissey, a small intimate chalkstream which runs through the Army training area in Norfolk to engage in commando-style stalking of its resident brown trout with my angling pal Sean Elliott. I just love sight fishing for trout in such lush overgrown surroundings and having to improvise all manner of casts in order to cover fish holding station in crystal clear water. The fishing was tougher this year than last, but I managed to extract my best brown of the year, a 3lb cracker, from this delightful stream. This involved long minutes stalking the fish and then covering it with a wide range of leaded nymphs before managing to fool him with a large caddis creation which thankfully he could not resist. The ensuing fight will stay with me for many years as I struggled to control such a large fish with my 5-weight Hardy Smuggler and only just managed to prevent him making good his escape into the lush aquatic foliage on more than one occasion. I always seem to have fond memories of catches made where I have been very much not in control – I suppose this has made me so much more relieved (and therefore ecstatic) when at last I have my quarry on the bank.

Returning my 3lb trout, River Wissey

Sean stalking a trout, River Wissey

Other highlights have been documented already on this blog – my two long-weekends and my full week, all in Assynt. Splendid wild fishing at its best.
I also had splendid days on Grafham Water in Cambridgeshire – again in the company of Sean Elliott – where I am sad to say he fished me off the planet! Despite apparently both fishing the same cast of buzzers, both on floating lines and both – apparently with the same (lack of) retrieve – I could not hold a candle to him and had to watch in jealous admiration as he took fish after fish, whilst I only picked up a token fish or two. And how Grafham Rainbow trout fight!! At an average size of two pounds and fighting fit, these fish certainly pull your string.

A Grafham Fish pulls hard

A particular highlight was an evening in June when at last the boys from the School Angling Club had the right conditions whereby they enjoyed great sport on Golden Loch in Fife. Having previously endured all manner of poor angling conditions on rain and windswept lochs in the local area, the boys were finally rewarded with ‘an easy night’ when the trout decided to be generous. Difficult fishing it may not have been, nor for ‘wild’ fish – but as I watched the boys taking the number of fish their talents rightly deserved, I cast my mind back to what I would have been like at that age and in similar circumstances – and yes, I would most certainly have been smiling as much as they were! Being committed to getting as many youngsters into fishing as possible, this was in so many ways my best memory of the year. Well done boys!
And so, in summary and for the record, what was my 2011 season like? My final catch figures record that I enjoyed 29 days fishing for a tally of 325 brown trout (most comfortably under half a pound in weight), 36 rainbow trout and sadly no salmon or
pike – but as my fishing is absolutely not about numbers of fish caught, I am happy to record that my memories of Assynt lochs and the intimate River Wissey certainly allow me to enjoy my fireside dram. A good year indeed. Do dheagh shlàinte!

A happy angler, Assynt 2011

Anthony Glasgow

Saturday December 24th… Well, it’s that time so Happy Christmas and a prosperous 2012 to everyone who follows the blog and, most importantly, thank you for taking an interest.

A mild, damp & breezy festive period with a benign forecast so happy trainer this morning as 20 horses had a couple of gentle canters on the all-weather, a quiet few days for them before we pick things up properly again on Monday. No runners until Thursday when we will hopefully be represented by Isla Pearl Fisher at Kelso, just need the ground to dry up a little, should do, Lucy looks like being busy on Boxing Day, 5 rides at Wetherby – Turbolinas in the 1.15 for Kate Walton then four for Ferdy Murphy, The Holinwell in the 1.45 (live on Ch4), Ockey de Neulliac 2.15, Le Roi Rouge 2.45 and Sophonie in the 3.15……. we will have a busy morning here with the horses then watch Lucy and the might Kauto attempt to win his 5th “King George” in a very strong renewal, I can’t wait……

Nick Alexander

www.kinneston.com

Wednesdy December 21st… Mild air arrives, bringing rain but banishing the frost. Another day of ups and downs at Musselburgh yesterday, Isla Patriot unseated Lucy at the first which was frustrating, she then had a good winner on Red Tamber, finally in the dark the moment arrived as Buffalo Ballet made his debut. It’s an odd sensation, a process that began with planning a horse’s conception, the foaling then five and a half years of preparation is distilled into 5 minutes of agony, in the gloaming round a track that won’t suit and opposition that look decent enough. Normally no pressure, but this is a horse for whom I have always had the highest regard, doubts galore of course and they heighten as he turns for home, looking one-paced and weak, then the penny drops and in the last two furlongs he sprouts wings and flies, passes about 5 horses to finish 3rd at 40-1, beaten 5l by the winner, another furlong and he would have won going away, he tanks off round to the back straight, masses of energy left. Ate up, sound this morning, he eyes the lorry while he is being jogged up, ramp is down, he wants to go again. Trainer delighted, there should be so much more to come, we train our horses to come to themselves over time, he’d never really had a proper gallop before. Problem is that he is a valuable horse, I will need to put him on the market, being realistic we are unlikely to find someone that will keep him here, will try my best and discount accordingly if anyone shows interest…

Far from the madding crowd, trainer and son opt for a close up view

Back here today frost is on its way out but enough of it about still to confine us to the AW, it’s riding well though and the horses look fresh and strong. They will all work tomorrow and then be wormed and have a quiet couple of days over Christmas, no runners until Kelso next week, no harm in taking the pressure off them for a day or two.
Vet in this afternoon to scan a couple of old injuries from last season, will help us decide when to start with them again. The mid point of the season, a chance to reflect on how we have done; 6 winners from 59 runners, 5 seconds, 44% placed – this time last season 2 winners from 18 runners so a material step up, loads of ambition to keep improving, targets for 2012 – well, a runner at one of the big festivals would be nice (not sure Perth counts!), 12 winners for the season, 20% first 2, 50% placed, main thing is just to try to keep the horses sound, healthy and running well. Main story over the past couple of months of course has been Lucy, hard to believe that 3 months ago she was still an amateur, just hope she is lucky and avoids injury and she should continue to progress, she has 5 rides at Sedgefield tomorrow – Kealigolane 12.20, Samson Collonges 1.20, Stand Clear 1.50, Stanley Bridge 2.50 and The Ferick 3.20.. fingers crossed!

Buffalo Ballet eventually returns to the winners enclosure

Nick Alexander

www.kinneston.com

Monday December 19th… Unpleasant morning today, drizzle on top of frozen ground, fresh Monday morning horses all combining to create a trainer’s nightmare, all just about in unscathed but laid-back temperament put to the test! Happy about the forecast, turning mild and not too wet for the next week or so, no white Christmas this year.

Tomorrow we run Isla Patriot in the 1.50 at Musselburgh, 11 run, Lucy rides, a slight step up in class but I am hoping the drop back in trip to 2m 4f will suit. And then, at last, Buffalo Ballet runs in the bumper at 3.25 also with Lucy on board, 13 run, track won’t suit and the winners of the last two Musselburgh bumpers line up along with a runner up from Haydock that was subsequently sold for £100k, hmm, have to start somewhere.

Nick Alexander

www.kinneston.com

Sunday December 18th… There are few things more agonising than having to pull out a warm favourite but I have done that today at Carlisle. My view is that the very worst sort of ground is heavy with a hard frost coming out late, whilst Papamoa is a soft ground horse the holding glue-like conditions with frozen bits that arise just swing the risk-reward ratio the wrong way, let’s hope he has his chance soon at Kelso or Ayr at New Year. Rather a flat effort from Sydney at Newcastle yesterday, 8th of 13, perhaps it came a little soon after Musselburgh, perhaps he didn’t handle the gluey ground, he will hopefully be back at Ayr at New Year as well. A fine winner for Lucy in a £15,000 chase at Haydock on Storm Surge, her first big “Saturday” winner, good press including nice article in Sun

Hard frost this morning here, an early start in vain but a chance to go for a decent walk up our hill in glorious conditions. I say in vain but such is my peculiar fascination that I enjoy surprising the horses by feeding them early some days, its curious, they all react in different ways, some are still asleep, others are always grumpy, just wanting their grub as quickly as possible, happy to try to eat me first if they have the chance. I don’t do much apart from feed, just wander quietly from stable to stable, feel the odd leg, dispense a bit of arnica to those that might be sore or who have a big day ahead of them, think, dream, make plans, it’s nice, family all home for Xmas (well, apart from the nomad), all tucked up inside, hmmm, time to start worrying about the next runners which will be at Musselburgh on Tuesday, perhaps Isla Patriot and then the Buffalo, a horse I love but will not be suited by Musselburgh, needs decent ground, nearly six, where else is there to go, and Isla Pearl Fisher, back over hurdles or keep waiting, desperate to run him, the words of the late great “Duke” ring in my ear, you need three things to train racehorses – “patience, patience and patience”……..

Nick Alexander

www.kinneston.com

Friday December 16th… I think the expression is “OMG” – well, didn’t everyone scrub up well for the Xmas night out, great fun but not sure about all the girls wearing such high heels, made me feel a bit stumpy! Slower start this morning but no frost and all the horses worked on the all-weather, I sped off to the Carol Service where of course she read impeccably, can’t really believe it was the same person that was downing the toffee vodka and black sambuca shots not many hours before – my sort of wife! Early alarm tomorrow, Sydney Cove in the first at Newcastle, 8 am inspection, ground soft, Peter Buchanan rides, 15 run, hope to change the tactics with him, could go well in an ordinary sort of race. Lucy at Haydock – another 8am inspection – rides Baccalaureate for Alison Thorpe in the 12.40, Storm Surge for Martin Todhunter in the 1.40 and You Know Yourself for Sue and Harvey Smith in the feature at 2.45 (live on C4). Then to Carlisle on Sunday (haven’t announced when their inspection will be yet – going to be one of those winter weekends I fear!) where we run Papamoa in the 2.40, Lucy rides 8 run, he is improving and will relish the track and conditions but its a trappy little race, Lucy also rides Edinburgh Gin Time and Ballycarberry for Lucy Normile – let’s hope the weather behaves!

Nick Alexander

www.kinneston.com