peep

The new batch of silky peeps arrived a little over a week ago and are now ensconced in a pen in a corner of the greenhouse, a heat lamp keeping them warm. If all goes well, they ought to be old enough to start laying eggs in March or April. In the meantime, they're awfully cute!

quack

the merry band of crazy ducks

The ducks are eight weeks old, but I'd be surprised if their brains were bigger than a pea. Crazy is what they are - nuts. The more I'm into farming and raising animals, the more I realize there are very good reasons for many common terms. In this instance, ducks are daffy. Living cartoons. Looney-tunes, as a matter of fact.

On the upside, they are maturing rapidly and in another two to three months should start laying eggs for market. Duck eggs are excellent for baking and custard-making. And since (like my chickens) these girls will be living on pasture, they're more nutritious than any you could ever find in a store. Not that you're likely to ever see duck eggs in a store, but that's not the point. The point is, they're good for you. And just plain good. Rich and thick, with deep orange yolks.

soon there will be more

Today I placed an order for twenty-five blue silky peeps.

once again, I couldn't have said it better...

"Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life...Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life...Most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become."  - Steve Jobs

reflection

I've just returned from a two week vacation at a little cabin in the Adirondack mountains. One of my favorite places for many reasons; peace, tranquility, and seclusion not being the least of them. It is a place of great beauty and lends itself to an appreciation of nature that for me, at least, approaches a gentle awe. While the ocean is nice, I am a person of woodlands, valleys, streams, and mountain lakes. Sun-dappled clearings, mossy rocks, and the calls of belligerent crows all unclench my chest, soothe my soul, and bring peace to my spirit.

The cabin has no electricity, and so no television, radio, or electronic white noise to bombard the ear - allowing for a quiet that few of us seldom, if ever, have the chance to experience. Coupled with the location, it is a perfect situation for relaxation and reflection.

There were walks with the dogs, good books, visits to charming shops and galleries, discovery of local farmers markets, and wonderful food at little cafes. I enjoyed the freedom of standing in the sunshine halfway up a mountain and singing out loud knowing no one could hear. I also spent a not inconsiderable time simply staring into space. Reflecting on where I am, where I want to be, and how I want to live my life. There are times I feel the need to remind myself that I only get one. Life, that is. And to not allow it to slip by without noticing.

I renewed my commitment to not live according to other's expectations. To live joyously. To spend more time creating art. To remember to find peace in the cool of the day. To enjoy the simple things: a hot cup of coffee outside at dawn, a walk without a destination, good conversations about nothing in particular, and quiet dinners with old friends.

Driving home, leaving the high peaks, brought tears to my eyes. It almost felt like a good-bye. I hope not. I hope to go back.