Originally published 26th May 2018
It’s the first day of half-term today, which is brilliant. We love having the little blokes around and think this half-term is great because we can both spend time with them for a change. It’s usually just me as Chris has to work but if you spool back a few years the roles were reversed as I’d be out working in gardens while Chris took annual leave.
The weather has naturally decided to take a change for the worse. Gone are the lovely sunny days of the last week or two and we’re now enjoying lovely rainy grey days. We had planned to take the boys to a few places and are busily scrapping those plans, or at least are revising them so we have alternatives in place. A day trip to Skeg-Vegas was on the cards but that looks rather unlikely at the minute and has been switched for a trip to Cadbury World. We also had an idea to take the squirts to Tropical Birdland [they’ve been a few times before and love it, plus it’s cheap – cheep! – Birdland …I’m wasted here]
Monday sees the annual duck race in our village. For those not in the know, us residents have spent the last month trapping wild ducks using a combination of methods. My favourite is an old fashioned drop-trap. You simply position a milk crate over a pile of bread, support the crate with a stick and tie some fishing line to the stick. You scare the ducks away initially but they get brave once they see you leave the area and come to investigate the bread. You all know what happens next, duck pecks bread, I pull on fishing line, stick comes out, crate drops, one duck nicely bagged. We have a couple of duck-wranglers [yes, that’s a real thing] in the village, Fraser and Mitchell, they staple a numbered sheet onto the back of each duck and then attach a small firework.
The way it works is this, we all choose a number [paying a pound to do so] and the fireworks are lit, the ducks are released and the one that gets furthest before the firework explodes is declared the winner. The winner of the draw bags 10% of the money raised and gets first dibs on any bits of duck that they can find [excludes feet and mouths] it’s a lovely tradition, and dates as far back as the doomsday book. It’s quite amazing to think that they had chunderbum exploding bangers in the 14th century*, what a world we live in.
*Fact checking courtesy of my friend, Rebecca, who is a real History teacher in a real school.
That’s it, Bye.