I just wanted to tell you some good news. The wild duck that we have on our pond, the one I named Nora Batty because she squawks non-stop, appeared today with thirteen ducklings. They are beautiful little balls of fluff. Imagine having thirteen children!! I can't post any photos yet as Roberto has taken the camera to a motor racing event (yawn!) but I will keep you posted with duckling developments. Our own black and white duck, Fatty, is still trying to chase her and impregnate her again. Bloody men, eh?
Anyway, Happy Ishtar, mes petits canetons.
Nora Batty and Fatty - there's a rhyming poem in there somewhere. Perhaps a love poem?
ReplyDeleteOh my love is like a sweet wild duck...
Unfortunately I can't think of a suitable rhyme for the second line. Muck? Pluck? Hook? I'll work on it.
Poor Nora. She's struggling to look after 13 babies while fighting off the attentions of a fat, sex-starved duck who isn't the ducklings' father. It's definitely not a love match.
DeleteAre they playing tennis?
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