“It’s Tilda! It’s Tilda! Mum…it’s TILDA!”

A second later Bean was off the window seat and at the door, whimpering to be let out to go and bark (gossip) at her best friend over the road. I obliged. And covered my ears as she rocketed down the path shouting for joy as she ran, tail up ears pricked.

Tilda stood (bounced and wagged) at her gate while Bean did likewise at ours. They really are a hoot. What a great way to start the day.

It was one which disappeared very fast in a flurry of digging and composting, dog-walking, weeding and finally sharing a cuppa with a friend.

All accompanied by the sound of distant gunshots. It’s the opening day of the duck shooting season: a big deal in NZ. I like eating duck, but I feel sorry for them today when it seems to be largely about killing as many birds as possible, rather than taking only enough to feed the family. Fortunately it quietens down after the opening day.