Oh kwaa-waaack waaack,

In the short time since last we last traipsed through the farm, we have been graced with twenty seven ducklings. Here's a brief history: two years back, Ty and I answered an ad pinned on the door of the feed store offering muscovy ducks for free. Just come catchum'. Big yard, fast moving birds, not an easy task. After a mild asthma attach and several near misses, we managed to coral a male and two females. Stuck em' in a garbage can, covered it up ( nightynigh ) and headed home.

The following year, one hatch out of fourteen ducklings. Ten out of fourteen made it, so thirteen ducks. This year around the same time in June we saw sixteen appear from the underbrush where mama duck had kept them safe and warm. Only six made it ( Mohawk, Duck Vader, Worm Gear, Stompy, Gizzard and Frinky) . So nineteen ducks.

Now, my best laid plan included building the flock to around thirty ducks that mostly ranged free, browsed the weeds, contributed to the essence of the duck ponds by pooping them into fertilizer tea and could be husbanded in such a way as to keep considerations of population in hand. My observations told me that they hatched out in June. Happened two years running. I remember the wild, albeit short lived mating sprees taking place throughout the summer, but thought nothing of it, as though the ducks only fired live ammo in the spring and blanks in the summer. Duhh.

So lo and behold, three more hatch outs in September, all overseen by the One who Nurtures, Casandra be thy name. We've not lost one. There are two goofy looking runts that are still all but featherless with feet bigger than their heads. If they stay that way, we're hoping to mate them with a hairless cat and call them Coatless Catucks. The perfect green pet. Gives you eggs and meat, eats weeds and kills rodents. And no grooming necessary. We'll make a fortune, be able to leave the farm with woofers and travel the world, bartering with desperate people for goods we can resell for enormous profits to the customers of hedge fund brokers. Sorry, went off on a little tangent there.

Now we have forty six ducks, and I wanted to cap the population at thirtyish. So we convened an emergency session of the council on what do we do now and as the first stop gap measure we put forth the proposition that funds be set aside from the Cayman Island account for Duck World. An ambitious project, garnering the skills of professionals worldwide and costing in excess of two hundred dollars. We'll float a junk bond.

It encompasses some four thousand square feet, has the shade of an Inia tree (built in), pathways, pond(s) and tall grass clusters with plenty of nooks for perfect nesting places. We've relocated the younger flightless little beauties along with their moms and all seem to be adjusting well. We have compensated them for ripping off their native lands by agreeing to lower their lease fees and upping their food ration by six and a half percent. We expect a counter offer soon as they bargain like Cambodians over a ripe Durian.

A bit of research will tell you that the Muscovy is considered to be one of the premier eating ducks in all the universe. They are prized for their lean meat and rich flavor. Without going into detail, I can tell you that this is true (sorry Marta). Faced with the need to thin the population, opting to fill the freezer with enough to keep the numbers in tow and us fed, is looking better than putting them on Craigs list.

I hope to get to the point where my understanding of their mating cycles allows me to harvest the eggs as necessary and let the remainder hatch out for food or to replenish an aging flock. Its always good to keep the killin' at a minimum, eh. If enough's as good as a feast, then too much can be worse than a famine. Somebody smart said that.

By the way, they're cute as the dickens and make lovely movable yard ornaments (no batteries required) for those of you who have gone "green" but are still really kinda clueless. You should get one, just to tell your friends you have it.

O.k., what else. Oh yeah, coming up on the end of year one of this farm stuff blog and if nothing else, it proves that the discipline drawn from the wellspring of demented creativity has reduced my need to masturbate by twenty seven  percent which will lead to the extension of my life by one hundred and forty two days. Days which I will spend on a morphine/mushrelessdee drip with Ty reading me Shel Silverstein poems and Kurt Vonnegut novels with the occasional screening of Field of Dreams for a good spiritual breakthrough kind of cry. I should be so lucky.

I'm thinking of discontinuing the email list and suggesting that you visit the web site to check in on the blog. I would do this for a several reasons.

A. Its a minor pain in the ass to transfer the email to the website.

2. I can easily edit the website post for those of you who love to critesize my spleening.

C. Every time one of you monkeys goes to the site, I become engorged with power.

D.Those of you living in the vicinity can check the c.s.a. page for weekly menu's .

5. Google rating.

So, consider becoming a member by pressing the DONATE button at the top the page to pledge your support in favoring the cause of Republicrats and Democans everywhere, and if anyone can figure out what that is, lemme know.

And finally, as if that weren't enough, the Obamascopic regime has populated the U.S.D.A. and dept. of Agriculture with Monsanto trueblues. In fact, the same one that criticized Michelle for not using pesticides on her white house lawn garden has just been given a high post at the usda. Its comforting to know there is a pesticide czar working on food safety, huh? "Waiter, another scotch please. Fuck it, just leave the bottle."

The more you show, the more we'll grow. Peace, Jp