Getting away with sneaky Hawke’s Bay garden hosing: Wyn Drabble

Wyn Drabble admits to toying with water regulations. Photo / NZME

Opinion

Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, writer, public speaker and musician. He is based in Hawke’s Bay.

OPINION

I think I’ve done pretty well with the garden hosing restrictions over the holiday period. I believe I’ve been compliant apart from a couple of slightly creative incidents where I admit to toying with the regulations.

The first involved moving my allowance forward by half an hour. I was allowed to hose from 7pm but we were going out then so I admit I did an abridged hosing from 6.30pm. Call it my naughtiest half-hour.

The second was when I was out of town overnight so missed my entitled day. I felt justified (but still guilty) in “stealing” an odd-numbered day instead of (or is it as well as?) my allotted even day. Perhaps “trading” is a better word than “stealing”.

I accept that you probably can’t tamper with a system in those ways but the main thing is I think that in both cases I was justified. And I got away with it.

But – and it was quite a big but – I grew concerned about December 31 being followed by January 1. That’s two adjacent odd numbers. I’m sure the in-ground plants could cope but it was the plants in pots I was concerned about. Pot plants can dry up very quickly and while I’m sure two waterless days might not kill them, it could certainly cause them some distress.

I set about devising a plan. Using MetService as my guide, I would choose which of the consecutive odd-numbered days was going to be more crucial and that would become my day of infringement, my day of crime.

An elevated driveway passes our house and even looks down on us so somebody driving past could see me and take offence at my hosing on an odd-numbered day. I needed a foolproof plan.

I decided upon the modus operandi of disguising myself as a scarecrow. Nothing too fancy, just an old hat with bits of straw sticking out from under the brim and some straw also adorning my cuffs. A carrot nose on an elastic band would also help though I would have to carve a little out of the thick end to accommodate my real nose. With my very oldest clothes I would be ready.

Garbed in this simple attire, I would hose as normal and, if I heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, I would turn the nozzle to stop, put the hose on the ground, hold my arms out each side and remain perfectly still until the threat had passed. This, of course, raises the question: why do scarecrows have sticky-outy arms?

If a passing driver wound down their car window and shouted, “Hey, Wyn, nice oufit!” I would remain perfectly motionless. Unless they tried it again in which case I would admit defeat and squirt a jet of illegal water at their open window. After they had moved on I would revert to my disguised irrigation.

So, as you can clearly see, watering your plants during water shortages is not all beer and skittles. “How did it go?” you are entitled to ask.

I picked New Year’s Day as my naughty day because the last day of 2024 looked wet enough in the forecast. So, on January 1st, 2025 would be welcomed in with help from old clothes, straw, a carrot, and elastic.

The only aspect I’m willing to report back on is the arms. My practice revealed that it is extremely difficult to maintain motionlessness while holding your arms out to the side. Because of this I’ve made a change to my ploy if I need to use it again.

I don’t know whether it will convince the birds – or passing motorists – but I’m trialling a scarecrow which stands rigidly to attention.