A week of hard, cold weather meaning not much gardening on, but more chances to fish.

Wednesday pm - a few hours at the canal. Much quieter than of late, with 17 roach (compared to the recent 50's) albeit the largest a pleasing 4 ounces. Oh, and 3 bleak and a minnow, if you're counting. Spent the last hour on lures hoping for repeats of last weeks perch, but with another frosty night imminent, I think it was just too cold for them.

Friday - Minus four at kick-off, with the canal at Eborne was totally frozen over as I made to the northern stretch of the Moors. Fancying a go at chub-bashing, I link-legered breadflake, spending no longer than 3 casts or 20 minutes in each swim, before moving on to the next. Casting to the overhangs, fallen trees and anything else 'chubby', I didn't get a touch in 4 hours. Even the one crayfish that grabbed my bait fell off on retrieve. Spent the last hour on the weir where I welcomed a single blank-bustin' brownie of 2lb 4.

Today - No frost for the first time in over a week, and with it overcast I fancied the perch might be hungry in the first hour. If they were, they didn't fancy any of the lures I tried.  Swapped rods and set up in my 'roach' swim to have another look for any bigger roach. A euphoric 'no'. In 90 minutes, I didn't get a single bite at any depth on any line. So, to shake the mixer again, I crossed the road, swapped stick float for chubber and trotted the river. I loose fed and switched between maggot and red corn to continue my biteless day. It came to my finishing time at 1pm and I audible sighed 'last cast then', and off it trot like it had fifty times or more up until then. But this time the float dipped and in came a 6-ounce silver. Not just a 'boring' roach or dace, but a beautiful grayling. Cheers, fish gods.