Second Helpings

Ducky Disaster

I enjoyed a lovely lunch yesterday with crackedbizkit and our mutual friend June, who frequently questions her parent’s choice of names seeing as she was born in April. But then, how many of us appreciate the names our parent’s bestowed upon us? Maybe that’s another blog topic to add to the list and maybe the name 'chicken' should be considered in my case.

Okay, back to the lunch. It was actually quite warm and we were able to sit outside for a pub lunch and a bottle of vino. We’ll all get back on that diet next week, or the one after, or the one after that, ad infinitum…cluck cluck.

The sunshine was much appreciated after our long, wet spell but as always, there’s a downside. I mean, if it hadn’t have been warm and sunny, the disaster wouldn’t have happened. I just feel so awful and embarrassed about it.

You see, my dear friend went on a trip to the seaside town of Whitby recently. Being the thoughtful and quirky person she is, she returned with gifts for us. She presented June with a stick of rock labelled ‘Nutty Tart’ and June’s hubby with one labelled ‘Boring Fart.’ Being sensitive enough to realise I could never eat a stick of rock with my delinquent tooth she presented me with something else in a little box.

I opened the box and discovered inside a tiny glass ‘Lucky Ducky’ – only available in Whitby. My sister bought me one of those some years ago, but I can’t say as I’ve noticed it bringing me much good luck. But you never know; maybe things might have been a lot worse without it...another chicken crossing the road.

Anyway, before I could complete my appreciative ‘Ooos’ and ‘ahhs’ little ‘Lucky Ducky’ rolled off my lap and hit the ground. Had it been a cool, wet day as of late and we’d been inside he’d have hit soft carpet, unharmed I'm sure. But as we’d elected to sit outside on June’s patio, the poor little fella hit hard concrete – not a very lucky start to life with Scarlett.

I hardly dare look and have never felt comfortable with the sight of blood so crackedbizkit bravely agreed to see just how much damage had occurred. It was established that Lucky Ducky had indeed broken, but only into two pieces. Quite a simple task to superglue the head back onto the body. As crackedbizkit put it...

‘Quite a lucky break.’ Sometimes I swear she sleeps in a knife drawer.

So thanks my friend; here’s a blurry photo of the new, repaired Lucky Ducky ‘Decapitated’ on the left with the smaller one ‘Distinctive.’ Let’s just hope their influence rubs off on my Lottery ticket this weekend. Wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake? Don’t you dare mention how big the cake would have to be to hold all of my 57 candles either.