Ducks

Okay, so I adopted two baby ducks shortly after Easter. Typical of the season, someone bought them for their kids to enjoy on Easter morning but three days later were tired of them. They dumped them at a vet clinic and the vet clinic called me.

They are Peking ducks - my favorite kind, but also a kind that is hard pressed to survive up here. They were bred strictly for meat and they have been striped of any ability to survive int he wild. They are bright white (so much so that they almost glow int he dark), they can't fly and they walk slowly, they grow so easily and quickly that their body often becomes too much for their legs and if they live to their full growth, they are likely to have crippled legs. But I really like these ducks, so I took them in and decided to give them a try at a life.

I raised them in the house in a crate in the living room. Once they got old enough I would draw them a bath every evening and let them swim around in the tub for a while. And three times per day I made them big bowls of salad and fresh vegetables, all soaked in a pot of water (becuase they love to look for food in the water). They never got very people-friendly (smart ducks) but I enjoyed them immensely. When they got too big for the crate, I moved them to the chicken house which has a bit of protection.

They've done great outside and I figured they were happier there -they never did get calm around me (though they learned to call to me if I slept in too late and didn't make their salad at a reasonable hour). But I miss them in the house. I guess I am lonely without Dave here, and I do worry about them outside. So a couple nights ago I walked down towards the barn one evening to check on them. They took one look at me and started squawking desperately and rushing towards me. Followed me right up to the house and in the front door.

Yes, I did let them in the front door. (I mentioned I was lonely, right). I made them their salad and they ate it so quickly I ended up making them two more before bedtime. Then they settled down by the wood stove and slept happily through the night. In the morning I let them out the front door and started cleaning duck poop off of everything (it is amazing how much two ducks can poop...)

The next night they showed up at the front door all on their own. This time I took the precaution of putting down some old sheets and arranging things so that they would be confined to the kitchen so they couldn't do so much damage to my carpets. In the morning, when I let them out again, I just picked up the sheets (COMPLETELY poop soaked) and put them in the washer. And so we've been doing things for about three weeks.

So here's the problem: I have a lot of guests around here during the summer. My mom was here a few days ago and she had her dog with her (who did not take ducks in the house with quite the equanimity my dogs seem to). And my dad and Ruth are coming next week. And after that we have three months straight of guests. Somehow I don't think I can keep letting the ducks in every night - its just too messy and too much work. And not everyone is quite so... fond of pushy, ornery ducks as I am.

Also, I have a lot to do around here. And some days I am really struggling to keep up. Its not like I NEED the added work of cleaning up after ducks every morning or the added hassle of blocking off my kitchen and plastering it with old sheets every evening (you would not believe the variety of surfaces ducks can get their poop on). So I think I have to stop letting them in. And maybe they'd be just as happy if I just made them a salad and left it outside every night... (but that's another problem - we are trying to be very money conscious and salad and fresh veggies cost a LOT. For the past month, I haven't eaten any fresh food myself because I have been saving it all for them...)

Two nights ago I didn't let them in. But last night I did - they just make me happy. I like their company. But what am I going to do tonight? And for the rest of their lives? I can't let them in forever. I simply can't. Their poop is really awful. And if anyone ever tells you it is possible to make a diaper for a duck, don't you believe them. I have tried everything and it simply doesn't work. Their tails are too big, too strong... well, just take my word for it. It just doesn't work.

So now I am trying to decide what to do about them. Haven't figured it out yet. Anybody have any good ideas?

The Fun Stories

If you want the fun stories of this summer (since i am not writing much) check out Dave's blog. He has been writing quite a bit - just short stories that tell his perspective on all the fun adventures we have been having here in the past couple months.

http://montanadave.blogspot.com/

A Perfect Evening

Last night around 9:30 it was still light out as it is out here this time of year, a blissful 70 degrees with a light breeze. The air was full of the fresh, beautiful smell of spring in the mountains. I asked Dave if he wanted to go on a walk and, to my utter surprise, he said he did. We walked our land until after 10, checking on how the drainage was progressing and the grass coming in back in the far pastures. At one point, as the light was just beginning to fade, I looked across the Big Barn Pasture and saw my cat, Smokey, sitting on a log mid-way across the field, watching for our return. Twenty feet behind him on a little bridge that crosses the creek into our yard, sat Magellan and Indigo, two of our other house cats, also marking our progress and awaiting our return.

We made our way back to the house just as the light was beginning to fade, and neither of us was ready for bed. It was Saturday night and all we wanted to do was sit up and enjoy the night air. We decided to drive down to Frenchtown to a bar with an outdoor deck.

Neither of us has really been to bars much since our... well, okay, neither of us really went to barns much during our college days either. In any case, this was a bit of a gamble, as we had no interest in the night-life - only in the night. But we wanted to go out, and we wanted a snack, and we wanted to enjoy the night a while longer before we went to bed. So we drove 20 minutes to town and I read to Dave all the way down (we always have a book going which we are reading aloud together).

We got there to find that the deck was deserted and we had the warm night all to ourselves. We ordered chips and salsa and I had a margarita. We sat for an hour and talked about our day, and the summer, and various little projects we wanted to do around the ranch. We held hands.

This, I think, was a perfect night. The kind we have out here so often during the summer. The sitting around the campfire, or on the porch, or in the hammock gazing up at the star-spangled sky, kind. The kind with peace and contentment and no, no, no rush anywhere at all. And I look forward to many more like it as the summer moves along.