Last Sunday evening, I had a call from my old friend Freddie. I could hear the excitement in his voice and knew almost instantly what the call was going to be about. “Can you be in Yorkshire on Friday morning?” he asked. Without really thinking, I replied with a definitive ‘yes’.
It’s always the case with Freddie, things are left to the last minute and yet, remarkably, the plans seem to come together, almost inevitably resulting in a cracking day out. Planning for my sporting outings, however, is at the other end of the spectrum. I like to get things in the diary well in advance, carefully thinking through all aspects of the outing. This was certainly the case for an evening duck flighting on the little pond not
