So me and the frog had at it last night. He was swimming in the only pond waters available — our toilet bowl. It’s the longest dry spell Antigua has seen in over 80 years. The ducks up the road look longingly at their deep and empty watering hole as our hostess ‘L’ digs and piles the rich pond nutrients and minerals with a straight-edged shovel, anticipating wetter days for her winged neighbors. The girls, as I like to call them, quack and waddle about all day long. We’ve been fortunate enough to savor their fresh duck eggs on this journey, courtesy of the above-mentioned hostess.