Linda Hall: Great weather for ducks and bunny battles

There's a battle of wills going on in a paddock between rabbits and Linda Hall. Photo / NZME

Well it's certainly been nice weather for ducks.

In fact it's been so nice that the ducks in the stream behind us have been happily sharing huge puddles overflowing from the stream to swim around in with their ducklings.

There are ducklings galore out and about. I have noted three main families that keep reappearing.

Donald and Daisy are back with their 2022 brood of 10.

Linda Hall is assistant editor at Hawke's Bay Today.

Then there is a family of two male mallards, a female and about six or seven ducklings. Hard to count as they move so fast.

Then there's another male and female mallard with about six ducklings.

I've also spotted another family with about four bigger ducklings.

The idiom "lovely weather for ducks" is apparently a humorous phrase for wet, rainy weather used since the mid-1900s.

I used to find it amusing and have quoted it more than once to people on rainy days.
Now it's not funny.

I'm sure I'm not alone in saying I am sick and tired of ducking the rain, putting on gumboots and jacket, trying to get washing dry, worrying about animals out in the sludgy paddocks, and staying indoors.

It's driving me to drink and eat. That's the only thing left to do. I've cleaned, I've read, I've done Wordle and Quordle, I've done crosswords, I've talked on the phone, I've watched the ducklings, I've cooked, I've looked out the window a million times to see if the rain has stopped — it hasn't.

So then it's time for another coffee and perhaps a biscuit, or maybe some cheese and crackers.

Then it's more of the above until it's gin o'clock and time for some chippies to go with it.
And all the while it rains.

I do have a bit of respite though. There is a battle of wills going on in the paddocks.

It's a battle between me and (I really want to swear here but being the lady I am, I shall refrain) THE RABBITS.

They dig holes, we put tyres over them so ponies don't slip. I fill them with pony manure, with a little smirk on my face, thinking "Take that bunny. Let's see if you can burrow your way out of that!".

The next day I go out and it's all dug out. Poo everywhere. I scrape it back in, get some fresh stuff, stamp it down with my gumboot and congratulate myself.

The next day, same thing but there's also another hole in the middle of the paddock. Another tyre, heaps more poo, more stomping. Take that!

I won one battle. The hole in the centre of the paddock has so far stayed full. However, the first one has not.

Every day for weeks I have filled it and the little sh*** have dug it out. The pile of dugout poo is getting higher and higher but I just keep shoving it back in.

I realise they will pop out somewhere else sooner or later but I'm determined the poo and I will win this round at least.

Luckily the paddock is nowhere near the road so no one sees me shoving poo in a tyre and stamping on it with a slightly hysterical look on my face as I shout TAKE THAT YOU LITTLE CRITTERS!

• Linda Hall is assistant editor at Hawke's Bay Today.