Ducking around

Hmmm what to write about? I'm in the mood to write, so the best thing to do would be to write. Right?

Today I popped to Oxford to see Becky poos (Old housemate and culinary expert.) I wish I knew my driving is so therapeutic? The girls at uni could tell you many a story in which I've been found crying in my car and the smile on my face when I get out the car and lock the door.

Anyway, I was driving down the M40 singing along to Stornoway (Becs may be able to cook but it took her three years to convince me the band were good!) just coming up to junction 6 through the chalk cliffs and I had a sudden thought...why don't you see birdwatchers traipsing the motorways? Granted the birds on the motorways are squished, mangled into a pulp and generally dead, but for all we know they could be rare species/ endangered types and so on.

It was around this time of constructive pondering that I almost hit the duck.

Now it still remains a mystery why I almost hit a duck whilst driving at 70mph on the M40, or more importantly where the duck came from? Apart from the duck clearly being suicidal and getting its poultry mixed up and playing chicken, it took a while to sink in what had just happened. So much so that I spent the next 15 minutes trying to recall if ducks could actually fly or not.

However it got worse. After surviving the killer duck incident and arriving in Poundon, Becs and I headed to MK for a bit of shopping and a spot of grub. We nominated Marks and Spencer as our lunch destination (their wraps are to die for!) and we set about scanning the selections for our belly liners. For some odd reason the wrap I normally go for didn't look to appealing, Hoisin duck.

I opted for the chicken wrap instead, but it didn't quite replace my urge for a duck wrap.

I guess in one respect I'm lucky, if Duck a la windscreen had been on the menu I may have been put of duck for life.

Sadly that didn't conquer my craving for a wrap though. Maybe that shall be lunch tomorrow...just hope I don't hit a chicken!