The River Arrow - Bovinae and Bovarism

Now there are days when you wake up and know that a spot of fishing is exactly what you need, and then there are days when your body is telling you to stay in bed, drink something warm and stop behaving like a complete idiot. Unfortunately, when there's a river involved, I have a remarkable ability to ignore the latter, so despite having a cold and a trip to Glasgow looming the following morning, I decided that a bit of sunshine and fresh air would do me the world of good.After all, what could possibly go wrong? A few hours roving the Arrow, a loaf of bread, a couple of obliging chub and home in time for a nice cup of tea, surely. Mind you, I've been fishing long enough to know that whenever you start making sensible predictions about how a session will unfold, the fishing gods are already preparing something to make you look like a complete berk.The Arrow, like many of the local rivers, was looking extremely low and clear, which is lovely if you're a kingfisher or a water vole but…