In the long march between Christmas and New Year, all up and down the land there are too many people stuffed into too-small houses, eating up all the too much food they prepared for the big day.
Under these circumstances, getting out for some fresh air becomes imperative, and as a walk is always better when it has a purpose, what better purpose can there be than to go up to the local duck pond and feed the ducks? Duns’s particular duck pond is the Hen Poo in the castle grounds, and there appears to be a constant procession of family groups heading up there to shiver in the wind and donate some of the surplus grub to the birds.
You’d think the poor things would be stuffed but no:
At the sight of a likely looking group – or even a lone blogger with a camera who forgot her bread – they come sprinting as fast as a duck can sprint. They surely know in their little duck hearts that this is not going to be good for them, that they don’t need it, that they’ll pay for it in the long run … and yet still they come.
Strangely enough, a similar effect can be achieved in our household by asking if anyone’s got room for another mince pie.