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trystinnToday, we mortal creatures we, are grateful for the sun which late this afternoon burst through the gray and melted much of our snow. I can actually see little patches of front yard out there. The stones of the spiral walk are peeking out. Yesterday I could barely tell them from the surrounding snow.
The backyard has not melted as quickly, protected as it is by dozens of towering grand firs. What melt has occurred out back has allowed me to find a 1/2 dozen duck eggs this afternoon. Given I only have 6 female ducks and have been collecting at least 3 duck eggs daily during this horrid weather, this is extraordinary sustained laying. Yes, all the duck breeds we have are mallard-derived and therefore, cold weather breeds, but still I'm impressed with the ladies. And dear Gods, the Swedes! I've only two of them but they are laying massive sized eggs on a very regular basis, keeping up with the far better regarded laying breeds of Khaki Campbells and Runners that we also have.
The rabbits are very grateful for the extra alfalfa pellet I've been giving them and the apples my neighbors have been bringing by. This morning, Michael caught me in the backyard crouching in front of the bantam coop while I filled their water bowl. I made the joke on FB that if this sort of thing keeps happening, I'm gonna start wearing lipgloss when I go out to feed the critters. Our place is, of course, the kind of home where you can run into neighbors out back and its not particularly concerning to do so.
The neighborhood boys, the very same ones I caught coming out of the vacant house on the corner, are out playing some odd form of roller blading hockey with ramps. I can't quite seem to figure out the rules of the game, given how little I can see of it as the bushes block our entire front yard and I've only the space allotted by the driveway to watch them. These ingenious boys are using the hallowed out back of the ramps, at the height, to collect the street puck. But first it must be jumped over by the goal setter. If the other jumps over it between the time it takes to jump and score, then the goal is invalid. Or some such. The rules, as always with young men, are often in flux.
And so my day ends to the sound of young men cheering, hockey sticks hitting the pavement and the happy shouts of young men at play.
The backyard has not melted as quickly, protected as it is by dozens of towering grand firs. What melt has occurred out back has allowed me to find a 1/2 dozen duck eggs this afternoon. Given I only have 6 female ducks and have been collecting at least 3 duck eggs daily during this horrid weather, this is extraordinary sustained laying. Yes, all the duck breeds we have are mallard-derived and therefore, cold weather breeds, but still I'm impressed with the ladies. And dear Gods, the Swedes! I've only two of them but they are laying massive sized eggs on a very regular basis, keeping up with the far better regarded laying breeds of Khaki Campbells and Runners that we also have.
The rabbits are very grateful for the extra alfalfa pellet I've been giving them and the apples my neighbors have been bringing by. This morning, Michael caught me in the backyard crouching in front of the bantam coop while I filled their water bowl. I made the joke on FB that if this sort of thing keeps happening, I'm gonna start wearing lipgloss when I go out to feed the critters. Our place is, of course, the kind of home where you can run into neighbors out back and its not particularly concerning to do so.
The neighborhood boys, the very same ones I caught coming out of the vacant house on the corner, are out playing some odd form of roller blading hockey with ramps. I can't quite seem to figure out the rules of the game, given how little I can see of it as the bushes block our entire front yard and I've only the space allotted by the driveway to watch them. These ingenious boys are using the hallowed out back of the ramps, at the height, to collect the street puck. But first it must be jumped over by the goal setter. If the other jumps over it between the time it takes to jump and score, then the goal is invalid. Or some such. The rules, as always with young men, are often in flux.
And so my day ends to the sound of young men cheering, hockey sticks hitting the pavement and the happy shouts of young men at play.
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Date: 2011-02-28 03:49 am (UTC)