All Our Ducks in a Row

Today, when we woke up all our ducks were in a row!

Farmer Rick and I have much to be thankful for--we've made it through another year together including our better foibles in chicken husbandry and accidental gardening, and our worse drought in history. His love did not waver even when I persisted on having curved walls in the new coop, and admits his carpentry skills improved with my nagging encouragement.

Nor did he admonish me for the outrageous debt we incurred from me having to take rabies shots after being bitten by the fox. Yea, he understands and supports my need to rescue critters, stick fingers into their wild mouths and to nurse them back to health. He loves my cooking--even when I forget that I am cooking and serve dinner a la charra y el carbon.

I have come to enjoy being awakened at 4 a.m. when he begins playing Chopin etudes and Joplin rags, mistaking my back for the piano in his deep slumber, and have begun to see it as a new way to get a jump on my busy day. I look the other way when he consumes all the household pickles, and gleefully cap the toothpaste and shampoo after him, because secretly I think I got the better end of this deal. He assures me we are equally fortunate!

People tell us we were made for each other. Indeed, we are cut from the same recycled cloth, quilted together by the poets, nobility, explorers, and farmers of our ancestry, having since discovered an 8th great-grandmother and 21st great-grandfather in common. When we cross the creek, neither of us can remember what we went there for.

Honey?

Uh hum?

Look, all our ducks are in a row! How cute!

But...we don't have any ducks!

Oh...You're right!



Y'all better go home!