Love, bubs and life on our little farm

Our two male ducks we were sold to keep our old pet duck company turned out to be a breeding pair. Oops! So Snowy is now sitting on a nest of eleven eggs in our geranium planter box in our laundry courtyard. I am pleased that she has the instinct to pick something so close to the house and reasonably sheltered as she will be safer from the foxes and spring storms. But at the same time I am a little overwhelmed by the thought of that many new ducks and the amplification over the next few years directly caused by introducing new male and female ducks into the mix. So as reluctant as jase and I are to do it, we will selectively clear her eggs tomorrow morning, leaving her with four. If they all hatch and survive, then three to go to my parents farm and one for us.

You have a lot more tough decisions to make when you live on property and sometimes you wish there was someone to do the hard stuff for you. But then you suck it up and do it. And you only get stronger and more grounded for it. Dealing with venomous snakes, dispatching rat bodies, organizing for your horses body to be buried by an excavator (no cardboard box under the flower garden for a half tonne horse I am afraid), tracing feathers and drag marks to work out where your pet chicken has been taken to it's death by a fox. You are a little closer to death on a farm then the suburbs most days. But it's just that reminder to live life a little harder and little fuller and with more love very day. And my girls are growing up learning that from the get go.

And I wouldn't have it any other way. Spring time fluffy ducklings hatching in their back garden are just one of the many bonuses!