The Duck That Didn’t

It has been a number of days since my last blog, but time flies when you’re doing stuff. That’s my excuse, but in truth, I guess that laziness is probably the main culprit. That’s my excuse and I sticking to it.

The weather hasn’t been all that flash, with persistent showers whenever they were not wanted. A delay in the delivery of some of the building materials and flu/head colds for the builders added to delays in the construction program as well.

But, before I digress too much, back to the Duck.

Hey diddle diddle
the cat and the fiddle
the cow jumped over the moon…

Whilst the old nursery rhyme gave kiddies the impression that a cow was doing Neil Armstrong impressions, the writer surely saw a cow hopping over an obstacle (like a fence) on a moonlit night with the moon conveniently in the background.

Because that’s what cows continuously do. Jumping over fences, not the moon. It happens repeatedly in Reikorangi, and frequently causes a stir and a flurry of objections about irresponsible stock owners who neglect the maintenance on their fences. Perhaps they can cut their wings a bit, like you do with chickens…

Ngatiawa Road is a fairly narrow and winding country road, at places more of a lane, and subject to a traffic speed limit of 100 kph. All that is great, until you meet a bull standing in the middle of a dark road around a sharp bend.

That is also great if you’re on foot for a walk, and you approach the beast with care and caution, “Hallo, Mr Bull. What a lovely evening for standing in the middle of the road and staring blankly into space. So wonderful for the psyche, don’t you think?”

But, if you’re in a car, travelling a bit faster, you might just, as the old pilots would say, buy the farm. And that’s not so great.

Whilst this scenario might be a figment of my imagination, the situation of Mr Bull is genuine. He was quite a large and muscular guy, standing firmly in the middle of the road en-poo (that’s an old French term for being in the process of producing a quantity of cow dung – actually bull, but that sounds like a load of bs… He was nonchalantly surveying the Milky Way, is quite genuine.

Luckily, my encounter (by car, not on foot!) happened in broad daylight, so I was able to take appropriate action (Like run drive away. Fast. He looks quite fierce and large.)

Whilst no-one collided with this guy, a smaller (feathered) friend of his, forgot to duck when a car came speeding along. He ended up as what is known in the butchery trade, a “flattie.”

(Above) McDuck on the tarmac. I trust he would not be assimilated by his compatriot Scottish friend McDonald.

(Above): A short distance from the prone remains of McDuck, I managed to snap this picture of some of his pals paddling around close to the road. Unfortunately, this beautiful creatures do not understand the internal combustion engine concept, so they, like the proverbial chicken, frequently cross the road…