… on dreams coming true


I was walking past the farmer…s….’s…s’ porch door (label depending, of course, on the number of farmers who gather there, or how many think they own it)… anyway, I’m walking by the door there, which is a french door which means it is pretty much all glass.

So I can see through it.

And there they are…

Two ducks!

This has never happened. Like, ever.

Blue jays? Yep. Juncos? You betcha. Chickadees and cardinals and starlings and nuthatches? All day long. But ducks? Never! Except today. Because today they were right there!


You know how much I really want freakin’ chickens.

These are practically freakin’ chickens!

No really, it’s science.

So, biologically… wait, hang on.

I have to introduce you first.

Here are the ducks who decided to come to my house today:

Yes, she is a beautiful female (who enjoys a nice waddle in, and tasting of, mud and grass).

And then there is this handsome fella:

As you can see, he is very interested in a particular cracked kernel of corn (I’m just kidding. I could barely take his photo because his head was moving so fast as he scoffed up all the corn. Perhaps he was a pig in another life. I said that to him and he didn’t even stop thwapping his beak into the porch deck (so I think I am right)).

Well, here is the thing I found out (because Wikipedia).

These ducks are mallard ducks. They are very common ducks and no one is really worried about them becoming extinct any time soon, which is very nice for us and them.

A baby duck is called a duckling (and we ought all make way for them just as Robert McCloskey says to (also, as a side note, he wrote and illustrated nine books and four of them were set in Maine (I’m just sayin’)). Anyway, baby ducks aside (because it sort of dilutes my argumentative statistics), a female duck is a hen and a male duck is a drake.

Did you see that?

A female duck is a hen!

Which is the same as female chickens!

This is what I’m saying! If they stick around, I will practically have chickens!

I am just so over the moon about this.

I’ve also named them accordingly…

to chickens I mean.

I took their first official portrait as a couple, on my porch.

Meet Cockadoodle Drake… and ChickHen:

Such a lovely couple.

I’m pretty good at deciphering their body language and here is what I have managed to translate from what I observed today.

This is ChickHen, noticing that we have a welcome mat, and I think she is feeling very welcome because of it:

Okay so here is Cockadoodle Drake, not really caring about the welcome mat because he is busy eating. But also, note the curls of this tail feathers. They look like little hooks right? Well. They are actually very sexy hooks, and he thinks all he has to do is flash them around and ChickHen will do whatever he wants. But she is looking for a place to set down roots right now and is totally focused on that task, so you can see – by the fact that her back side is to him – that she could care less about his sexy feather hooks.

So then he is all, well look at my beautiful shiny head (because with male ducks, there is a lot of vanity wrapped up in a nice shiny green-blue head (again, Wikipedia)):

He is acting all kinds of cocky, I must say. Which is so fitting for a duck who is pretty much a rooster for the purposes of … well… me. And also, he seems to think he gets to make all the decisions even though ChickHen is doing all the work. Seriously. She’s checking out the welcome mat, testing local food and water sources, and walking around the yard to see if it would be good for duckling swing sets and baseball games and stuff.

Photographic proof:

And he’s just following her around, appearing bored and completely disinterested, but also – I must admit – looking awfully sexy.

But then, she lays down the law:

See that body language. He’s sunk.

She is saying, “Look. I agreed to come with you all the way to Maine. And it is still really cold here! So I’m picking the house. There’s cracked corn here, and a diverse medley of other birds for the ducklings to play with. And there’s a big yard for exercise and its waterfront, Drake. Wah. Ter. Front.  So it doesn’t have a man cave. Deal with it!”

Or something like that.

And guess what, you can probably already guess.

He caved.

They already put an application in to rent for the season.

Now, you might be thinking that this is all projection on my part and is based purely on wishful thinking: I really want chickens… these ducks aren’t really acting like chickens…

But guess what I just found on the porch?!

Poop that’s what!

They are acting exactly like chickens.





Their only contingency on the whole rental thing is another inspection, which will hopefully happen tomorrow (and will go well).

Because… guys… I’m just sayin’:

Freakin’ chickens!

Thanks for readin’

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