I cannot believe daylight savings is here already. I am looking forward to those long, light evenings but am not enjoying driving to work in the dark again.
With Jay and Bex here for a couple more weeks Aaron and I decided to head to Auckland for a relaxing weekend. We arrived Friday evening, delivering meat packs to friends and family and then we had dinner with mum in her new home. It was a strange experience being in my old house. Although I have popped in a few times since leaving Auckland, my old home had become an unloved and uncared for flat. What had once been warm and inviting had become dirty and unwelcoming and I had no desire to ever step in the place again.
And then we arrived on Friday and the place has been transformed into a home once more. There’s new furniture, new ornaments and a new feel. I recognise the place but I have no emotional connection to it. It is a lovely place though. I think if mum were to put it on the market now it would be easy to sell. However, that’s not her current intention and I guess I’m secretly glad.
The garden, despite having become an overgrown jungle, looks amazing. Overall, Aaron and I did a really good job. Yes, there are trees planted that are far too big for the property but good regular pruning will keep them in line. It’s all about bonsai on a medium scale. If you let the trees reach their full potential then of course they’re in the wrong spot.
So anyway, we suggested to mum she hire an arborist who knows what they’re doing as the place needs a skilful hand. We talked about it and then it became apparent – we should do it. We know what we’re doing and we need the money. The only issue is that we can only do it next weekend as we need someone to farmsit.
Mum jumped at the idea and so Aaron has roped in the father-in-law Pete to help us. We can’t possibly get it all done by ourselves and Pete’s gardening skills are probably better than ours. So we’ve booked ourselves in and we’ll be back in Auckland next weekend.
As we ate dinner on Friday night Aaron kept topping up mum’s wine glass until she became very ill and headed to the bathroom. Aaron then went nextdoor for a night with the boys and I went to bed. The next morning mum was doing better but Aaron was quite ill. There was no time for sympathy, we had stuff to do. Matt and Bron picked us up and we made a flying visit to Paul and Nicky’s and then headed into the city to Auckland Hospital.
Roadworks had cut off the normal route and so we came in the back way via Newmarket. I’m glad Matt was driving as I was lost and more roadworks and congestion had us in a slow moving queue of cars, and then we passed the turnoff and had to turn into a side street at the next set of lights.
Except we couldn’t as people kept blocking the intersection. By the 2nd set of greens with no movement I completely blew a fuse. I was stuck in the back of a coupe with no door or window to give me access to the outside. “Lean on the horn Matt! Lean on the ******* horn Matt” I was wild and started screaming out the driver’s window “You wankers! You arrogant ******* wankers! Are you ******* idiots? Get out of the ******* way!” and on and on and on until eventually people moved forward enough to let us through.
I suspect it was the 2 drivers in front of us beeping their horns that made them move but I reckon if I’d had the chance to get out of the car it might have helped. To be fair, Aaron did offer to get out of the car and vomit on the bonnet of one of the offenders. He was green enough to do it but despite my encouragement “Go on! Go on! Yeah do it!” he remained seated.
The drive to the hospital had been filled with a series of “Oh my god. How bad is that person’s driving?!” incidents. I had even started up my old game of “Guess the nationality of that driver” and by the time we got to the hospital it became quite clear to me that Auckland is not a good place for me to be in.
We arrived at Auckland Hospital and I was stunned at how huge the place is now. We felt like we were in an international airport when we arrived. Eventually we found Joy’s room and despite Jo’s advice that we should brace ourselves I wasn’t prepared to see such frailty. Aaron got to the bed and then turned and walked out.
Joy opened her eyes and started to panic. There seemed to be tubes running everywhere and she wanted them off. I sent Bron to find a nurse. Matt and I stood there trying to have a conversation but Joy was so spaced out on medication she didn’t recognise us. She drifted in and out of sleep and we were left to look at her pale, emaciated body and it struck me that at 94 she did not have the reserves of energy necessary to heal 2 fractured ribs.
I held her hand and wept and felt completely useless. As Joy gets older and more incapacitated her life becomes less of a life and more of an existence. I wondered if she’d had enough. I wanted to say “It’s okay, you can let go if you want to” but she wouldn’t hear me and she wouldn’t understand. At that age you can choose to die but not if medication prevents you from thinking.
If she’s fractured her ribs she could be in pain and on medication for months. Matt fractured his ribs 2 months ago and in peak physical condition he is still experiencing discomfort. I cannot fathom how she can get out of bed in the next 6 months. I cannot fathom how she can survive. I fear for her quality of life.
We were there maybe only 15 minutes and left. Aaron clearly didn’t want to be there. He had seen Joy’s frailty and had seen death standing at her shoulder and wanted to leave. And I hoped upon hope that this would not be my last memory of Joy but I struggled to see an alternative ending.
We drove back to mum’s. I Took Aaron down to Troy’s then did a bit of shopping and ended up at Jo’s for the afternoon.
In the evening we all headed to Milford where we caught up with friends for dinner at Kashmir. Sunday was fairly laidback. We slept in, picked flaxes and daisies out of mum’s garden path to take home with us and then headed to Troy’s to pick stuff up and drop stuff off and then to Jo’s to do the same. We were home in the afternoon, feeling very relaxed.
The Ducks Leave Home
We arrived back to discover the ducks had been gone since Friday dinnertime. “Yeah they did that the other day” Aaron said “and then Lisa went outside and called them and suddenly they came home” It was true, purely coincidental of course so I went outside again and walked to the end of the verandah. The ducks suddenly came running up the hill quacking excitedly.
“Hey guys, the ducks are back” Jay and Bex looked slightly perplexed
“But they’ve been gone all weekend. Honest!”
The ducks were definitely back but now there were 2 missing. It was surely only a matter of time before our ducks left home for good. I couldn’t see we had any choice but to lock them all in once there were 10, ducklings or no ducklings.
I text Frank. “We’re missing 2 ducks. Have you seen them or their remains?” He text back to say 2 had gone broody. I told Frank to let me know when his paddock was next clear of deer so we could come over and look for them.
Embarrassingly he cleared the deer out within ½ an hour and invited us over. We took a net and the 4 of us climbed the fence and looked and looked but could find no trace of ducks or eggs. And then Frank walked up and suggested they might be one paddock over. We walked through the gate and found ourselves in the most stunningly beautiful paddock.
My heart sank. It was duck utopia. If I was a duck it would be my idea of paradise. I had seen this paddock often from afar but never realised just how beautiful it is. There is a sea of gently rolling, green pasture that disappears up into the bush. In the middle of the green, as the land slopes upwards toward the mountain, there are large islands of irises. In the middle of the irises is a rustic, rusting corrugated iron shed. Behind that a magnificent Moreton Bay Fig with huge roots like serpents rising out of the paddock. At that point the land flattens out and slopes down a bit, and there, just before the encroaching forest there is pond after pond surrounded by masses of calla lilies. Further back still is the beginning of the bush, kauris tower over rotting logs covered in moss, juvenile manuka trees appear in mass clumps, there are rocks and stumps and reeds and grasses and well quite frankly I was ready to pitch a tent and move in myself.
We found a duck in one of the ponds and Aaron chased her home. We found her nest in a rotting tree stump with its clutch of warm eggs. She wouldn’t be going back to it. We removed the eggs and hoped they weren’t too close to hatching as they had no chance now.
The light was fading and so we called it a day and I asked if I could return in the morning. Monday morning Bex and I returned. Marge and her 4 grandchildren helped in the hunt.
Both Marge and Frank made it clear they had wanted the ducks to stay to be free to hatch their ducklings. It was a difficult situation. I was embarrassed that our livestock had moved onto their land and set up home. I was also upset that we hadn’t had a single duck egg in nearly 4 weeks and despite the fact we were continuing to feed the ducks most nights. I wanted our ducks back so as not to annoy the neighbours, only to discover that the act of taking the ducks back is what annoyed them most.
Frank especially seems to have become quite attached to them. Eventually I gave up looking and told Marge and Frank I was happy to leave the duck there but the others would now be permanently locked into our place. Then I asked Marge if I could pinch some of her irises. Amazingly she agreed and I went home with 6 iris plants, which I planted just above the duck pond.
After lunch Bex and I decided to make 2 smaller ponds for the ducks. We dug out great big mounds of mud and clay to create 2 small ponds that filter into the large pond.
We dammed Bex pond and surveyed our work and felt quite pleased with ourselves. It was rough looking but the ducks would soon trample it all down and dig out extra bits if they wanted.
When Aaron arrived home I explained about the duck still at Frank’s. Aaron stood on the verandah. “Honey, there’s 10 ducks”
“What?”
“There’s 10 ducks”
“No way. I counted them 3 times this morning and there were only 9”
“Well there’s 10 now” Quickly we raced around gathering staples, wire, wire cutters, etc and Aaron, Jay and I spent the next ½ hour closing the gap in the fence. The boys checked the fenceline and found that the duck must have wandered up to the back of Frank’s deer paddock, come through the fence and then through the back gate to the duck paddock, which had not been covered in netting. The boys closed that gap off and that was that. The ducks were now fenced in.
Bex suggested we plant calla lillies around our duck pond. I agreed and Bex spent most of Tuesday beautifying the duck paddock. It looks great.
The ducks haven’t seemed overly bothered about their lack of freedom. There is in fact a large gap of no wire by Stanley’s paddock that they could walk through. The chickens walk through it every day. The ducks however seem content to sit at the top of the hill by their feed bowls, laying eggs, sleeping and preening. I have agreed that at this stage that we just collect eggs that have been layed randomly. We will leave the 2 girls to go broody if they want. I am just as keen to see ducklings as anyone else. Happy Hens
It is now a couple of weeks since Marty ended up simmering gently on the stove top. We haven’t missed the incessant early morning crowing or the hen and dog bullying. In fact we haven’t missed him at all. How is that?
Perhaps it is because the hens are now so content. They wander around, a happy duo, never fighting over food and never shitting in the hen house. I can’t believe it, after all this time I’ve finally discovered that it was Marty who had no qualms using the hen house as a toilet. The girls haven’t soiled the straw once. Not only that but they’re laying almost on a daily basis.
Had we got rid of Marty 6 months ago I’ve no doubt we would have had a lot more eggs this year. The only thing we have to do now is clip their wings and put them in the duck paddock permanently. While I have no problem with them scratching for food around the house, they will insist on using the verandah as a toilet. We’re all mightily sick of it so they have given us no option.
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