So I haven’t posted in a few days. I’m afraid I’ll over do it and then I’ll get tired of it. Man, today, I’m just tired in general. Skipping exercise time because I think I’d collapse. And instead, I’m posting. About flapping things.
Last weekend, we took the ducklings outside for a swim. They had doubled in size since the weekend before. Seems ducklings don’t stay little long. They’ve doubled again this week. Anyway, this was the first time they really decided to try diving. And that was just too much fun! They also learned how to raise up out of the water and flap their tiny little wings. Won’t be long until we have feathers on those wings.
Donovan’s new obsession is to drive you nuts about taking his picture. I’m afraid he thinks he’s always doing something cute. Which he is. but I don’t want a picture of every little thing. Every time you’re outside, he wants his picture taken. We tried to explain that we were getting pictures of the ducks this time. Not of him being cute. So he picked up the little frog statue that sits at the pond. One of my kids last year gave it to me. So then, you have to be, “Take his picture, Scott. Please. Before he drops it and breaks it. “ And as you can tell by the smile, he’s perfectly aware that he won. But I got HIM! I chose a picture where he’s blurry and the frog’s clear! That’ll teach him. Yeah…right…hhhmmm..
Anyway, the ducklings enjoyed their swim. Donovan got his picture made and everyone’s happy.
Now that they can get out of the pond without any help, they seem much more content. They get out, stand around for a few minutes, look at what a great job they did getting out, then get back in. Kind of like watching kids at the pool in the summer, ya know?
In…out…back in again…then out..I’m hungry…I don’t wanna stay. I don’t wanna go in. Just a couple more minutes. Hey, I was eating that leaf! Well, maybe not that. But my mom ate clay when she was a kid. But that’s another story completely.
But splash time is good for the ducks and we enjoy watching them. They’re tame enough you can hand feed them, which is great. And I really think we’re doing the right thing getting more.
Now, this face…THIS is one I sometimes wish I’d never seen. He struts around my yard like he’s in charge. Smarty pants rooster. Fairly well behaved, I can’t complain too much most of the time. I’ve gotten used to his crowing and don’t hear it most of the time. It’s the attitude I can’t stand. Thinkin’ he’s all that. He’s a big bag of feathers and some rubbery stuff on his head and cheeks. But he seems to think that’s important.
When he’s out, he spends most of his time, strutting around in front of the hens. They really don’t pay much attention to him, though when they get scared they come racing for him. “Oh, save me, save me.” Not a problem. When the big hawk flies down, who do you think he’s gonna eat first? Yup. You’ll be history, dude. And while you’re being carried away, the girls will go safely inside.
Seriously, I always want a rooster til I have one. Then I’m trying to figure out why I wanted one. The girls actually do something important. All he does is walk around and look good. And make my hens look like crap. I told Scott I wouldn’t have another one. He said, that’s good because this one could live 17 years. I’m thinking roadkill. Might take a little work since he doesn’t like to be out in the open. But Donovan’s got his truck and his John Deere. Maybe I can work some sort of accident up. I can explain it to Scott. Really I can. It’ll just take some work to convince Mr. Attitude to stay in one spot long enough for a good impact.
Now this one is my favorite. We got Buffy from a friend of mine a couple of years ago. She was small and not in the greatest of shape. It took some care and attention to get her looking like the does now. The others picked on her for a while, but not any more. And she lays green eggs to make it even better! We have a couple of “Easter Egger” chickens. At first, it was fascinating, but not so much any more. I really don’t care what color the eggs are. Just that they’re laid with some regularity. Which they do unless it’s gloomy. Or cold. Or there’s a change in their diet. Or if they’re molting.
They’re sweet, though. We had a picnic one day and some of the came to visit. A red sex-linked decided she needed pretzels and when we weren’t doing what she said, she decided to serve herself. Crazy birds. They’re just too funny.
We lost one the other day. One of the red sex-linked. I tried to convince Scott that since I lost one, I needed two-three more. He said no. I let him win. THEN he said he’d see about building an incubator so we could hatch our own. So I think I won. But he’s the one who’s been wanting to hatch eggs. So he won. Actually, the chickens won. They always do. Make sure they eat well so they lay well. Spoiled little critters.