The ducks have been playing up
Led by the three drakes, Halleh, and the new boys Bert & Ernie, all eight have been disappearing through the snow damaged fencing to wander across the horse livery pastures and down into the lane.
A rather bedraggled middle aged woman knocked on the cottage window at lunchtime, just as I was settling down with a coffee and Just A Minute, and told me that they were out on the road.
She informed me that " her David" was stood guarding them and asked if I could sort them out.
We wandered down the lane and after thanking David who was a dishy looking twenty something and still holding my mug of coffee in my hand, I yelled at the ducks to get their arses back in the field.
Ducks may be thick as mince,
But when they are bollocked, they tend to return to places they know and love.
So as the ducks panicked, ran in a few circles before galloping home, I turned to the woman and said
"Thank you.... It was lucky that you and your son was about"
The scruffy looking woman pursed her lips slightly
" He's not my son, he's my husband"
She said with a slight hardness in her voice.
And neither of them reacted at all
When I said with an embarrassed and slightly camp
|Bert and Ernie ( their feathers already back to a cracking condition) are 4th and 2nd from the right|