Yes, it is no wonder that Team Hadfield looks back on this day with a shudder. But the reason this day really sucked unequivocally, was this: As we made our first trip of many, ferrying stuff to our new flat, we saw that one of the ducks that used to chill out in our courtyard had been hit by a car, and her partner was standing over her, folorn and helpless. He didn't move the entire day. Not only was it heartbreakingly sad - they mate for life, you know - but it was also portentious of what kind of day we had ahead.
So, in honour of the ducks, and as a way of marking the year spent here, Tim and I decided to, via Oxfam, buy three ducks which would be given to people in needy countries and, according to the website, can "eat insects and snails, helping farmers protect their fields. Eggs provide extra family nutrition and an income source." I'm not trying to schill for Oxfam here, or act smug for doing something charitable - but by all means check out the website.
Above: Did not actually take this picture - it's from Google Images.
Thank you ducks, for eating the bread that I threw out the window, for making our landlord's precious asphalt your toilet in what we took to be a sign of your defiance to him and allegiance with us, and for the very public sex you so often had that provided us with much hilarity. Gone but not forgotten.