Whenever I tell someone on Westray how excited I am that I’ve just bought some duck eggs the response is always the same; “I know whose ducks they come from.” However, what no-one ever goes on to say is whose ducks they actually are from. Am I the only one on the Island who doesn’t know whose ducks these eggs come from? They’re beautiful fried on toast and lovely used to bake a loaf of bread, despite the mystery that surrounds them.
This used to be a screw. This is what happens to metal when it lives in a damp atmosphere.