Hubby and the duck

Living in the country, I have no qualms about cooking anything my husband brings in for the table. My only request is that I don’t see him dispatch it and that he prepares it for the pot. I have made several rabbit pies, cooked pheasant and pigeon, but the dog has yet to realise that simply lifting partridge isn’t enough as they aren’t likely to be scared into conveniently dropping dead at our feet.

My hubby likes to cook, and years before we moved here, he told me he wanted to do the Christmas Dinner for a change. Rather than traditional turkey, he decided on duck (courtesy of the local supermarket, not his rifle), and insisted I left everything to him as he had ‘a plan’ and was looking forward to giving me a day off .

duckWorking for an international bank at the time, I only had Christmas Day and Boxing Day off for the holidays. I was therefore working on Christmas Eve, though we were usually allowed to finish early, around 2pm. I’d woken up with a headache, thought nothing of it and taken 2 painkillers, then gone to work as normal. By midday though, I wasn’t feeling at all well, and as everything was up straight, my boss said it was OK for me to go home.

Hubby had already put up the tree and deccies as was our norm on Christmas Eve, and had just started preparing everything in the kitchen so that there was the minimum to do on Christmas morning. He took one look at me as I stumbled through the door and told me to go straight to bed. I felt dreadful, and couldn’t even face the cup of tea he brought in to me, so just had water instead.

Unfortunately, I was soon rushing to the bathroom. I wasn’t aware of having eaten anything that could have disagreed with me so violently and had felt fine the day before so had no warning whatsoever.

Hubby, bless him, spent the night, or tried to, in the spare room as I was so restless, hot and clammy, but he always got up to hold my head and rub my back as I had an uncomfortable love affair with the toilet bowl most of the night.

Christmas Day arrived, and I could hardly lift my head off the pillow. I was able to drink hot boiled water now, but couldn’t get warm despite extra blankets and a hot water bottle, and the thought of any food at all just made me feel worse. I felt even more terrible that all his efforts were to be wasted, and he in turn didn’t feel he could sit down to his dinner with me so poorly in the bedroom, which added to my conscience!

I can count the number of times I’ve been ill in the 24 years or so we’ve been together on one hand. That year, I had been hit by some Triple T (two ton truck) flu that knocked me on my back within 24 hours and I was off work until after New Year. Thankfully, no-one else in the office got it.

I never got to taste the duck. In fact, I couldn’t eat anything for about 5 days. Hubby couldn’t eat it all, and the dog had Christmas dinner twice, but sadly a fair bit had to be thrown away. Luckily, he hadn’t got far with the fresh veg on the 24th, but bubble and squeak freezes OK anyway so it wasn’t a problem.

The only ducks we have anything to do with these days are either swimming up river with their babies or these in our bathroom.



About pensitivity101

I am a retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination and wacky sense of humour which extends to short stories and poetry. I love to cook and am a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes! In November 2020, we lost our beloved Maggie who adopted us as a 7 week old pup in March 2005. We decided to have a photo put on canvas as we had for her predecessor Barney. We now have three pictures of our fur babies on the wall as we found a snapshot of Kizzy, my GSD when Hubby and I first met so had hers done too. On February 24th 2022 we were blessed to find Maya, a 13 week old GSD pup who has made her own place in our hearts. You can follow our training methods, photos and her growth in my blog posts. From 2014 to 2017 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat where we made strong friendships both on and off the water. We were close to nature enjoying swan and duck families for neighbours, and it was a fascinating chapter in our lives. We now reside in a small bungalow on the Lincolnshire coast where we have forged new friendships and interests.
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5 Responses to Hubby and the duck

  1. I surely hope your Christmas dinner will be much more memorable this year – no toilets, no fevers, just festive and fun. But what lovely proof of endearing and enduring love your husband displayed. He’s a keeper. Wrap him up and put him beneath the Christmas tree. 😉

    • I know… my friend told me to keep him as he was ‘useful’. Mind you, he was breaking into her car at the time as she’d locked her keys in it (ex car park attendant).

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