Wednesday, November 2, 2011
The back porch is so peaceful in the mornings. Peep on my lap, or preening near my feet. The girls in the compost pile, scratching for bugs. Roger and Little Jimmy Dickens playing in puddles I've made for them.
Roger and Little Jimmy Dickens? Why, they're my birthday ducks. Aren't they darling? They're about a month old now. Ornery and independent, waddling and quacking everywhere they go.
Y'all know we live on less than half an acre? In a cul-de-sac. In the suburbs. You, too, could have chickens and ducks. Stinky creatures to entertain you.
On a sad note, Polish is a rooster, through and through. He went to a new home. And he's not a Polish rooster, but a Brabanter, some kind of ancient Dutch chicken that's rare. How he wound up in Oklahoma is anybody's guess.
Back to my biddies. Y'all have a great day!
Until I write again ...