I read quite a lot – for work, for education and for pleasure. Not as much in the last category any more, and less overall than I used to, but there are still a few fiction titles every year, usually in the “damn near brain-dead/guilty pleasure” category. There are very, very few books that I read hundreds of times. The Gruffalo is the only one this year.
It’s probably obvious that I have a young child – the Gruffalo isn’t a religious text, or a set of instructions for life. But there are lessons in it, and the reading of it, just the same. Continue reading “Lessons from the Gruffalo”
(An edited version of this piece appears in “Salmon of the River Lee”, a recently published ode to the river by Dan O’ Donovan. It’s a lovely book, with countless hours of research between the covers, and is available online
from www.anglebooks.com and www.rareandrecent.com.)
I’m a fair to middling (some might say mediocre) salmon angler. I tie my own flies to a reasonable standard, and can cast a decent line with a single-handed rod, or a fairly poor one with the double-hander. My father, Ger Mulcahy, known to friends and acquaintances in Cork as Gerald, was (I have been told) by contrast, an excellent fly-fisher of salmon. My first salmon on the fly on the River Lee in Cork was on a stretch of water he knew well and fished often, and I felt he was there on the Graveyard stretch that day.