So I will try and remember as many things as I can to write about. Mostly because so many wonderful things have been happening. While Lori was here I looked on the internet to see if I could tell what sex our ducks might be. The first identification listed on all the sites was the curly tail feather the male has when he comes to age. It said feather, no "s" so I was a bit curious about that. It also said that the feather falls out easily and therefore is not the best way of telling the sexes. Apparently the crest also has nothing to do with the sex and they provided quite graphic details on the genetic possibilities. Bottom line, crest or no, not the way to tell the sexes apart. Each site then described the clearest way of telling them apart was that females went "quack" and males have a deeper and raspier voice and make the sound "rob". Hmmmmm. Bug, Lori and I listened but I have to tell you with all the noises they make, none of the described noises were identifiable. We finally decided the best way to tell as with chickens. If one lays an egg it is a female. Of course with chickens you also have the male's crow, so that is an advantage.
A week ago I found two duck eggs randomly dropped in the chicken yard. It was sort of like they were waddling along deep in conversation, and an egg just drops out, the duck wags it's tail and keeps walking. We have picked up 6 eggs in the 7 days. That would be a lot of eggs for one duck to lay, so it is still possible that we might have two females. But we still do not know that for sure. They are quite agreeable and take turns on top in their duck bucket. I can not say that one seems to enjoy it more or less then the other, so they seem healthy and happy and we have eggs, so I guess it really doesn't matter.
Bug took me out to Aucilla Shores to pick up some new chicks. I am afraid they are going to be banties so that will take a bit of work to blend the sizes, but it will work. We have two that are older and bigger then the other five. One is red and the other a lovely two toned grey. The red one I have named Rudbeckia and call her Ruby for short. She is sweet and lovely. Hyacinth Ladean is the grey one. It was the name my mother in law wanted one of the chickens named. Of the other five, some have black skin and most of them have feathers running down their legs. The feathers are allegedly from cochins and the ones with black skin look like they have some silky in them. I have named the largest white one, Poppy and the black one with the yellow face Pansy. The other three are still in the choosing time.
A couple of the smallest ones got out of their cage but were staying next to it when the ducks found them and chases them out into the yard and through the fence into the woods. Fortunately they came back and were grateful to not only be placed once again in their pen with their sisters, but Bug also placed a board closing off their space from the bigger chickens/ducks. All seems quiet now. I have already started planning on new gates and fences to make sure everyone is safe.
The weather has been beautiful. I wish we had more rain, but the mornings have been in the mid 60s. I wait until it gets to the mid to upper 70s and then I sit out on my little back porch and enjoy reading or just sitting and looking.
I have been having bone and muscle pain in my long bones, arms and legs. My ankles swell and each morning it is a challenge to see where the latest side effect will be and what it will be. The pain is not worse then the stinging hornets, but my ankles are not able to hold my weight so I spend most of my time sitting. I feel like a race horse. Long thin legs, fine boned ankles with ballerina envy arches that when swollen remind me of Seabiscuit's feets. The injury not bad enough to shoot me as a race horse, but the discussion would be held. Today I was able to actually stand long enough to cook a little lunch for us.
We took Lori out on the boat, the weather was not boating weather when my baby brother and his two sons were here. All Lori wanted was to see a manatee. Bug was happy to play her fairy godmother and we came across a young mother and her baby. The baby couldn't have been two feet long. We turned off the motor and just ran the electric trolling motor. The day was perfect, we ate grouper sandwiches at the Riverside Café.
Ms Moon brought over another one of her amazing dinners. This one was a salad, a white tuna, spinach lasagna and apple cake. We ate on that the entire time Lori was here. She has headed on down to Bradenton and is in orientation for her new job. I saw sunset photos on her FB page, so that made Bug and I feel better and worry about her a little less. We love her dearly and this is her first time to be away from her sweetie for this long. Hopefully the family will be down here so and back together.
Bug has started building my planters so I am very much hoping that my feet will work again, at least a couple of days we week so I can bet my plants over here and get them planted.
I have moments of clarity and acceptance that this could go on for quite a while yet. I have pity parties from the pain and frustration of my lack of ability to do most things. I wanted to take a shower and wash my hair. My legs would not hold me that long, so I shifted from shower to tub back up to finish with a shower to rinse my hair. But my tub is not appetizing and it is not a place I will take a glass of wine and lay back in a bubble bath. It is deep, but it needs to be replaced. It is fine for now, but I would like to be able to lay back in a lovely tub and relax. maybe one day.
We hope to start taking photos this week of the house so I can show you what a pretty house it is. Everyone seems happy, although I am anxious to get the Bubba's, my gold fish over here from the other house. Harley has gone again. Bug has been putting up an electric fence. It is the mildest one they make and is for small dogs, chickens and bunnies. Harley does not carry for electricity so we hoped that small amount would be enough to hold him. We didn't even get it completely done before we took off again. I feel like I should cut him a strong bamboo stick and tie a bandana on the end so that my little hobo can travel. But I would rather he was home. We miss him. Life is much calmer, but we miss his sweetness. The stress is just so over whelming when he is gone.
And that has been the biggest thing in my life right now is overwhelmed. No matter how many moments of sitting on my porch while a hummer flies inches away, or butterflies the size of luncheon plates sipping at the moisture in the dirt and the chicken/dog poop. The sweetness of the hungry chickens racing to greet me to see what treats I might have brought with me. There is a peacefulness with all the chirping and buzzing and bird calls. We have seen half a dozen different varieties of snakes, more insects then anywhere else I have lived, and birds filling the woods with life. Deer prints just at the edge of the woods. But among all this peace is my battle. A battle I am not prepared to fight. I can not fight myself. I simply can't. I am not good at fighting, period. And with the WMDs surging through my veins the war is there, want it or not. I have found that just letting go and crying helps instantly. It is like it cuts through all the stress and just washes them away. Taking time outs and just spending quiet time in my dark closest just breathing and relaxing. Finally trying to shake off the rigidity my body takes on each day to deal with what surprises I will find in my body and just letting go and laying in my honey's arms. It hurts. Physically, I mean. My body is rigid with the pain, every few hours I can take another half pill and wait to fill the slightest relief. But even then my back, my arms, my legs and ankles, my ribs soar from coughing, the touch of another person. Whether dog, cat, chicken or human, another person reaching out and gently holding you up away from the pain.
So much more happened that I can no longer remember. I have another treatment on Tuesday and we start all over again. At least I have some good books to read, a sweet man's hand to hold, lots of animals to stroke and hug. I have gardens to plan. I have planned many gardens. Now to make one that fits the me of today.
I have ducks laying eggs and new baby chicks peeping and scratching happily. John C and his girls have also been quite generous with their eggs. Maybe they are inspired by the ducks. Georgie is surviving and I love my giant boy, but he certainly doesn't have as happy of a life as a mother would want.
So reporting in.