No, I haven't got him making bizarre feathery bibs for me, he's been tying tiny weeny flies in an attempt to catch big fat fishes. He's been a bit of an armchair fisherman for years, regaling me of tales of the ones that got away in his youth. Recently he's decided to put his rod where his mouth is (that sounds wrong in so many different ways), and he's actually been doing proper real fishing. And he's caught some fish! I have two lovely plump rainbow trout in the freezer, and I'll be oven baking one of the blighters tomorrow night.
I have no idea how fishing works. Or rather I do have an idea - take stick with string on, put hook on, put worm on hook, dip in water, catch fish - but apparently it's a bit more complicated. My only fishing experience was one sunny afternoon when were camping a few years ago. Mr pickledweasel couldn't find a bait shop open, so used tinned sweetcorn and spam on his hook, and caught two lovely fish which looked very nice but we were apparently not allowed to eat.
Anyhoo, this time round he's doing fly fishing, which doesn't involve any spam (much to my disappointment, as I quite like spam), but does involve eating what you catch. And lots of funny little pretend flies which are works of art in themselves.
Mr pickledweasel has bought all the kit for tying them himself (and stolen half my reels of cotton AND my embroidery scissors), and today went and picked up a lovely handmade chest to store all his gubbins in. Isn't it nifty? I might just stash a few packets of sequins in there, he'll never notice :)