The ducks were the proud recipients of a new kiddie pool pond this weekend for their swimming pleasure.
The funny part was that it took them over a day to start swimming in it. We got the pool Sunday afternoon. By Monday afternoon it was still untouched, and Sweet Husband was beginning to take it personally.
So personally, in fact, that he felt the need to collect the ducks and toss them in. Not used to being so forcefully encouraged to swim, the ducks jumped right back out again and waddled away, insulted.
Undeterred, Sweet Husband next tried to lure them in with treaties. He followed them around the yard tossing bits of cantaloupe, Pied-Piper-style. This made the chickens happy, but got no love from the ducks.
Frustrated and hot, he came inside where I had been watching the activity amusedly. An hour or so later, as we were making dinner, all three ducks were happily paddling around the pool.
And speaking of the ducks more charming qualities, they seem to have developed a fondness for kale and chard. My kale and chard.
I probably need to do something about it, of course, but to tell you the truth the ducks give me enough joy that I don't really begrudge them a square of the garden. So long as they don't develop a taste for tomatoes....
What has been breaking my heart just a bit is little Mr. Norah, who scared us all with her his first strangled practice crow this weekend. It wouldn't be so bad, but he's such a friendly guy. He and Tori (whom he seems to be developing amorous feelings for) are always the first to greet me when I come home at night--always curious as to whether or not I might have a little something nibbly for them.
I wish I could tape his wee beak shut.