Friday, November 23, 2012


It's a cold one this morning.  The frost is amongst us.

It's time to feed.

He's waiting patiently for his breakfast.

Actually, he's not very patient.  Photo quality is about to go from focused to not at all.  Watch:

Mr. Ants In His Pants starts to simmer over the fence.  The dirty looks, the pacing...the trick is, don't let him see you're intimidated.  

Keep your cool.

Even though your feet are cold.

Because you didn't put socks on.

Good morning, sir!  Did you sleep well?

How was your Thanksgiving?

Personally, I was ill in bed for mine.  I got sick as a dog from over exertion at my boot camp class -- at least that's what I diagnosed myself with after reading Wikipedia.

Hungry, much?  You seem agitated and a little wide eyed.

Eat up!  

At this point, I don't exist anymore.  It's kind of like after my husband eats dinner and he sits down with his laptop the rest of the evening.  I'm invisible.  So I clean the kitchen.

Notice the frost on his back in this picture?  There's no frost on the ground beneath the shelter we built.

Does he use it?  N-O!

Grain is very yummy to cows.

This grain is from Idaho.  It's called half & half, like your coffee creamer.

According to my friend, Annie Oakley from Idaho, it is a mix of barley, molasses, corn and other deliciousness.  According to my neighbor, Randy, it's like Double Stuffed Oreo's.  

I love that description.  I can go there.

He just swung his head at me in irritation.  My mom does the same thing when I talk too much around her, too.

She'll yell at me: "Oh HELL!  Are you STILL talking?!!!"

Hey, Jesse, take your Thanksgiving scarf, and this grain can back to the porch, would ya?


This is my next hill to die on.  Their at the door as we speak!




Here they come--filing past me, one by one in a prissy rush.  Remember that scene in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation when Clark's prudish co-worker/executives file past him into the board room?  Press play:

THAT, ladies and gentlemen is a perfect picture of life with ducks.  

Pray for me.

I run in and find the eggs, quickly.

I don't remember Laura Ingalls on Little House on the Prairie terror-stricken by her chickens when she went egg gathering with her basket and pinafore.  

Ducks are such a buzz-kill.

Found one!

This is where MY impatience comes in.  My husband informed me, yesterday, that I have to start rinsing the egg shells and keep them.  He will then grind them up into a powder and feed them back to the ducks for extra calcium.

Isn't that nice?  ONE MORE THING for me to do around here.

One more mess I have to contain.

One more trail of tears.

I'll stop.  

Have a fabulous Friday.  I love ya!


  1. Maybe he should rinse the eggs if he wants to keep them :) My friend doesn't wash hers. She saves them up then bakes them at 375 for 30 minutes then crushes them up. That might be easier than washing. Her blog is Bless This Mess if you ever want to wander over to her place.

  2. Tara: thanks for the info! You're the info Queen! I love ya!


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