What the Ducks!

Leaf Me Be

Autumn leaves…so soon. Its colors last only as long as next week’s storm.
So enjoy now for tomorrow we rake.

Veggie chips?

Hard knock leaf.

Burning (blueberry) bush.

Leaf me alone!

Lawn & Garden

animals, back-to-nature, backyard poultry, living in suburbia, nature, outdoors, pet ducks, photography, raising ducks

October 25, 2012

Sunny Side Down

We got the test results: They found lead in the egg but maybe not enough to scramble the omelet plans after all. (At least, not for certain grown-ups.) Don’t you want “zero”? How much is too much? How does this stuff get inside the eggs, the birds, ourselves? There’s a ton of math involved so bear with me while I sift through this further. Meanwhile, I’m sticking to Count Chocula.*

*Seasonal humor.

Buzz Off

Hey.

Come here often?

Uncategorized

animals, back-to-nature, humor, living in suburbia, nature, outdoors, photography

October 23, 2012

Looks Can Be Deceiving

It all depends…

…on how you look.

humor, living in suburbia, nature, photography, poetry

October 22, 2012

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=7431198

I Sing The Planet (Too) Electric!

Is it just my life or does everything require a plug anymore? Are there no transactions between humans that aren’t electronically negotiated? We can argue about the emotional ramifications and the privacy implications and many do* but my question du jour is: What in the ducks does all this cost? Every rechargeable device, every plug-in, every screen both ultra-wide and handheld small—they all draw on the grid. And, unless we go total hamster and self-charge our TVs with treadmills mounted on dynamos**, we’re all using energy. Lots of it. By replacing boring old passive materials with interactive, multi-sensory, energetic versions, we could be getting more efficient (maybe), more accountable (some cases) and easier (often) but the conversion is not cheap. More and more, I’m thinking, turning stuff into e-stuff is not the most sustainable way to go.

This idea has been nagging me for a while but another piece of the puzzle clicked when I saw a recent New York Times front pager on the costs of cloud computing. If you haven’t already perused the article, you might like to take a peek at its tales of secrecy, wastefulness and pollution in this just one aspect of our E-Age. Since I don’t have the investigative resources of the Gray Lady, I chose to tackle this thorny topic by philosophizing and noodling instead, which, for the most part, is still free.***

Let’s start with those ubiquitous email footnotes that primly suggest the non-printing of things that don’t need to be printed (“save a tree, don’t print me!”). Add to those the well-intended platitudes from organizations “going green” by turning every interaction into a digital endeavor. To me, gestures like these feel both like “not enough” and “missing the point” in semi-equal measure. It’s a bit like the push for CFL bulbs, saving energy upfront but leaving the sizeable problem of the mercury component for another day. I haven’t done the math (just give me time—and a really big abacus!) but it does seem we could be missing the global forest to save the local trees. By upgrading/converting so many interactions into high-tech exchanges, we have created an economy even more dependent on energy than before. Is this really where we want to be or just where we’re told (sold) we want to be?

Take, for example, advertising. (Puh-leeze!!!) The energy super-sizing of marketing continues to proliferate. Billboards become video billboards. Directories become moving screens. Buses and trains “upgrade” from flyers to kinetic images. We exist in a landscape that constantly beckons and flirts while Philip K. Dick laughs (or cries) in his grave. And it appears we’re paying a high price to be wooed this way. We can argue over psychic impacts, but it’s undeniable that all these shiny sales vehicles need power, lots of it, merely to operate. They glow therefore they be…a drain on the grid.

It may seem like an externality (if there’s a plug, we have the right to use it—power source be darned) but there are real costs and real trade-offs. Not to pick on the footwear industry (not me!) but what does it cost to have a glossy monitor indicating where the shoe stores are at the mall instead of a simple poster? And don’t get me started on video games vs. skateboards, iPads vs. bicycles, Kindles vs. picture books. OK, since I started down that hoary path, here’s my Back in the Day example. Walking to the public library to do research gave Much Younger Me: 1) fresh air—or the NE Philly equivalent; 2) exercise—a meandering stroll; 3) interaction with actual people, not 3D versions—yes, grumpy librarian included; and 4) completed homework—maybe not up-to-the-minute news but information all the same.

Our children can go to the computer after school and never leave!

And speaking of the distraction, I mean, the entertainment industry—boy, do they have us where they want us (everywhere, that is.) Desperate to fill any moment with tiny hits of byte-sized engagement, we carry our e-toys in fear of unscheduled boredom. The CrackBerryesque shots of pleasure from each tweet are addictive but let’s admit, often superfluous.

In the meantime, we’re dealing with issues of global conflict and planetary sustainability in order to feed this electronic maw. (And here I am typing instead of planting bulbs!) To make a small difference and partially offset my blogger’s guilt, I’ve been asking myself even more, do I really need to use that e-device to accomplish that task? Do I need to waste energy by distracting myself with that screen instead of using my own power to do something plug-free instead?

As a card-carrying techno-flexitarian—I blog but refuse to routinely carry a cell phone— I already tend to be a critical thinker when it comes to the role of Big T. And while it’s true that not having me available by phone 24/7 does drive my husband crazy, heck, that’s no reason to give in, right?

I mean, you gotta start somewhere.

*Me!

**There’s an idea…heading to the patent office right now. (There might be a line.)

***Not counting the electricity I squandered writing, editing and posting this blog entry. Let’s see, carbon credits per word, carry the six, subtract the good intention, alrighty…looks like I owe $2.95 to my daughter’s grandchildren. In 2060 dollars, of course.

More on mercury in CFLs:

http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=are-compact-fluorescent-lightbulbs-dangerous

More on dopamine and technology:

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/brain-bootcamp/200907/techno-addicts

RIP, Ray Bradbury!
1920-2012

back-to-nature, environment, humor, living in suburbia, photography, technology

October 19, 2012

45 Comments

Leggo My Eggo!

Is that a fourth egg I see before me, or just an omelet of the mind?

Math, it’s true, is not my favorite pre-dawn activity (that would be Sleeping In, people) but even when I shake my foggy head, I see one-two-three-yup-four eggs on the pen floor. Now if we have three ducks and two drakes and each duck lays one egg a day that would be three eggs per day max, sometimes one or two, depending whether or not there’s enough daylight, they’ve eaten enough calcium and have not been freaked by a random hawk…

But that day there were four.

Hmm, am I sure sure about the two drakes? Did I imagine the connubial activity between Fannie and Peep? I’m almost 100% sure about Puff* but Fannie, without the swimming pool to provide the perfect dating environment, shows less of his inner Don Juan than previously. His bill coloration, however, and his overall demeanor still seem more aligned to Team Testosterone.** Hmm, hmm, hmm.

All righty then, can a duck lay two eggs in one day? A quick spin on the web browser brings up tales here and there of Two-A-Day poultry but, for heaven’s sake, it’s the Internet, you can’t believe everything you read there!

Ahem.

I decide to coddle this egg conundrum for a week or so while carefully counting eggs each day and recording their number in my ersatz Jeffersonian manner. Over time, I conclude I might have missed an egg in the bedding and, as the total follows a familiar rhythm of 2, 2, 2, 3, I convince myself this must have been the case.

Then the next day I find only one. Feeling improbably deflated by this discovery—I still don’t even know whether I can eat the egg!—I thank the duck who gifted it nonetheless.

The following day there are none.

At least, I think it’s zippo, until I realize the ducks have figured me out. They’ve very craftily devised a scheme for hiding their eggs from Yours Truly, the Reverse Easter Bunny, by burrowing into the wood shavings, laying the eggs and then covering them up again! Wow, you go girls!

But I took the eggs anyway. All seven. Have no idea how many days’ worth and by how many ducks.

The following day, they abandon the pilfered nest (sorry!) and lay three eggs on top of the bedding. Then it’s the (thwarted) hawk attack morning and no eggs laid in the pen at all (one Cayuga egg left near a water bowl outside.) The day after that, back to one egg. The day after that, ZERO.

Oops, I guess the ducksperts are right. Predators can unsettle laying birds. (Or duck owners.) I had come to let the group out around 7 and find no visible eggs only Peep still sitting on a pile of shavings. Her sisters and brothers launch themselves out the open door, leaving her stranded for a minute or two. On a nest-like structure. A nest-like…ah ha! Finally, I put it together— I was looking in the wrong place— they’ve moved the nest to the complete opposite end of the pen! I start digging as soon as Peep blithely rejoins her kin.

On a side note, you may be amused to know that Peep and Gladys are Welsh Harlequins, those notably prolific egg layers with DNA from a family of prolific egg layers, the Khaki Campbells. Welshies themselves have been known to lay up to 200 eggs a year; Khakis even more. With this heritage in mind, you will not be surprised then when I reveal that I discovered seven eggs in the new (?) nest as well as two, partially-formed eggs laid outside later that day.

How many total ducks are we talking here???

Of course, they may have been running a con game all along, covering their bets with two (or more?) nests and maybe I just never caught on. (Shocking, I know.) To try and find out, once and for all, how many eggs we can get in one day, I thoroughly scour the pen for errant bundles of cholesterol then put the birds to bed. I tell myself that with Gladys still a less-likely candidate*** and none of the bonus eggs with a tell-tale Cayuga gray tint, in all likelihood, it’s Peep the Bountiful who’s doing extra duty on the days when we get four. Case closed.

In the morning I find five eggs.

Duckier by the dozen.

*He never ever stops to ask for directions.

**Do ducks have testosterone? Okay, well, whatever male hormones ducks have then.

***See Gladys’ tale.

Gladys' Story

animals, back-to-nature, backyard poultry, humor, living in suburbia, nature, pet ducks, photography, raising ducks

October 17, 2012

(Not)Taken

I’m getting too old for this kind of excitement. You know, the kind when it’s 32°F, you’re not wearing socks and you’re trying to defend your ducks from a pair of hawks diving by for a little breakfast.

Don’t worry–I scared them off. Well, sorta. I stood there with my camera* actually on and the lens cap actually off so startled by the sight of a Cooper’s hawk taking another pass at my equally flabbergasted waterfowl that I didn’t get a shot. (Photo, that is!) Then, as I unfroze and made my way toward the wildly quacking group, pivoting to watch the accipter peel off skyward, a second raptor launched from the pine trees and bee-lined at my birds. At that point I think I finally shouted “hey!” or something equally ineffectual. The ducks waddled toward me or, more accurately, toward the shelter of the coop and as I continued to stare (and still not take pictures!), they reached the hulking safety of the Yolk’s underbelly and then, only then, did the hawks depart.

The whole thing couldn’t have lasted more than 10-15 seconds.

“And don’t come back!” I should have shouted, fist in the air, but said air already had my toes in an icy vise and my fingers were not much better. The ducks stayed huddled and I with them until I was (reasonably) sure there would be no repeat performance. Ah, nothing like a birds of prey show on the morning of first frost to keep me on blue-turning toes!

As my heart returned to subsonic speeds, I tried to comfort the ducks and mulled over our soon-to-be-revised anti-predator protocols. For one, it looks like we’re going to have to add extra cover in the middle of the lawn. Per our town’s regulations we have sited the pen centrally to keep it away from property lines. But with All That Lawn (my nemesis!) it takes several duck seconds to get from pen to rhododendron and that might be a few seconds too many to keep out of talons’ way. Most dispiritingly, despite what we believed in the beginning, even midsize ducks in a group of five are tempting to a juvenile raptor. A hungry juvenile raptor, I might add. Two of them!

Harrumph.

So just what did those guys think our backyard is, anyway? A drive-thru? Um, actually, it is. Or fly-thru, rather, as we live near Long Island Sound in a well-established aerial freeway for migrating birds. Many summer mornings I’d been charmed by osprey flying so low I could see captive fish in their claws. When the predator prefers birds, possibly our birds, much less charming. Yeah, yeah, I know they need to eat, too, but NIMBY!!!

Grrr.**

So it looks like I’ll have to order a few more tarps and rig them up on each side of the pen for 360° of cover in the middle of the lawn. I should probably also think about creating a bird netted area around that, too.*** (It’s a big yard—ducks need one!) And, in the end, since I can’t always be on Hawk Patrol, I guess it’s just as well they were Saved by the Coop and not by me. Unless a hawk thinks a woman in clogs and LL Bean parka tossed over a flannel robe is threatening.

Well, you never know.

*Taking pictures for a different blog post. Hey, at least I was there!

**You should imagine the sound of the Cowardly Lion here.

***I have to buy more; threw the other stuff out–I can never untangle it once I use it!

animals, back-to-nature, backyard poultry, humor, living in suburbia, nature, outdoors, photography, raising ducks

October 15, 2012

First Frost Fotos

Saturday, October 13, 2012–first night since spring to hit the ol’ 32 degree notch. Although we’ve had some super-balmy days in the last couple of weeks, this came in fast and hard. Quick! Get out the flannels!

Ice rink for robins.

Dreaming of a snowy Halloween?

Bloom while you can!

Call me when it’s spring.

General, Lawn & Garden

back-to-nature, living in suburbia, nature, outdoors, photography

October 14, 2012

Growing food, Kitchen garden, Lawn & Garden

Leaded or Unleaded?

Okay, so I’m not crazy after all. Well, maybe a little crazy (about ducks!) but, more specifically, not crazy because I insisted on testing our garden soil when we decided to get backyard poultry. Followers of this blog may be familiar with both my fastidious* attention to detail and powerful imagination when it comes to Things That Can Go Wrong. Going the extra mile by testing the stuff that goes into our ducks before their eggs go into us is exactly the sort of thing I would do. My husband, apparently, is not really following the blog (boo hoo!) because he couldn’t understand why I dutifully collect the eggs only to discard them.**

“Why don’t you just eat them?” he asked, exasperated.

Give it to you in one word: Lead. (Maybe.) (Alright, two words.)

When I first told my devil-may-care spouse that we might not be able to eat those yummy-looking eggs the girls now proffered up each morn, he rolled his eyes. (“I’ll eat one!” he declared, offering his body for science, I presume.) Then, when the first seemingly nutritious ovoids appeared on the pen floor, I reminded him we were still waiting for test results on a sample egg so “no eating” rules were still in effect. He rolled his eyes again but…he didn’t actually eat any either. Which is good because an article in the New York Times this week might have caused some serious indigestion.

“High Lead Found in City-Sourced Eggs” squawked the headline on a thought-provoking and detailed piece by Julie Scelfo. According to the story, “more than half the eggs tested from chickens kept in community gardens” in three New York City boroughs had “detectable levels of lead.” Gulp.

Now we don’t actually live in NYC, instead residing in a train-connected leafy suburb but the differences between the two could merely be degree. Many American megalopolises reaped the rewards of industrialization but still deal with the residue of its lead-based paints and lead-infused motor fuels. Several decades after the removal of Pb from these and other products, its removal from the everyday environment is much less complete. And that includes the ‘burbs.

When we first bought our property last year, I dreamed of a DIY farm-to-table lifestyle but knew enough about environmental issues to do research before that first forkful. After all, although currently residential, I had no idea what used to be on this parcel and since our community is 400+ years old, tracking it all down seemed like an awfully big can of problematic worms. Rather than sifting through ancient records (and freaking myself out further!) I chose to test what history has carried down to us: the actual soil. Problem was, I couldn’t find a reliable place to test for toxins, plus I didn’t even know what toxins to test for. If you want to measure pH or nitrogen content, lots of choices. If you want to know “what am I looking for if I’m worried about poisoning myself or my family?” it’s a lot more complicated.

After several confounding experiences, I mentioned my struggle to landscape designer Rhonda Turso, who understands sustainable options in home gardening. She referred me to Brooklyn College’s Environmental Sciences Analytical Center where I found Dr. Zhongqi (Joshua) Cheng, one of the scientists later referenced in the Times coverage. For a reasonable fee, his team at the Department of Earth and Environmental Sciences can test for five different toxic metals (and others, upon request) in soil, vegetables, fruits, herbs and…eggs.

The department website includes a download called “How to Read the Numbers: Heavy Metals in Garden Soils” that shows standards for levels of heavy metals in soil are stricter when the site will be used for raising animals as opposed to merely raising vegetables. Which means, in short, if you’ve got poultry living off your mud and bugs, your soil needs to be cleaner than if you want to grow the World’s Largest Zucchini. (You should still wash it, though.)

Hey, it’s entirely possible that your backyard is hunky dory and you can still look forward to that Guinness Book listing. On the other hand, you might be living in Chem City and not even know it. The only way to know is to test. We sent a bunch of our stuff to Brooklyn a few weeks back and expect the results any day now. Goody, goody gumdrops!***

(Maybe.)

*Fanatical or conscientious? You decide!

** Which did break my heart, btw.

***As long as they don’t have lead in them! See Swindled: The Dark History of Food Fraud from Poisoned Candy to Counterfeit Coffee, by Bee Wilson, Princeton University Press, Princeton, NJ, 2008.

back-to-nature, backyard poultry, edible lawn, environment, kitchen garden, living in suburbia, pesticides and children, photography, raising ducks

October 12, 2012

Happy Hauntings

Folks are deadly serious about trick-or-treat around here. Decorations gotta be up by October 1st–the more, the scarier. Here are a few of our spooky and not-so-spooky lawn ornaments. (Note: We grew the cornstalks ourselves!)

Welcome to the Asylum, indeed!

Discard from Sleepy Hollow?

Last licks.

animals, living in suburbia, nature, outdoors, photography

October 9, 2012

Lord Bless My Duck

On the occasion of St. Francis of Assisi’s feast day, many different faiths offer services called “The Blessing of the Animals.” In that ecumenical spirit, I offer these images of our child and her miracle duck, Gladys.

Before blessing…

…during…

…blessed!

Ducks & kids, General, Gladys' Story

animals, back-to-nature, backyard poultry, pet ducks, photography, raising ducks

October 8, 2012

Color Me Autumn

Lawn & Garden

living in suburbia, nature, organic gardening, photography

October 6, 2012

Naptime

animals, back-to-nature, backyard poultry, living in suburbia, nature, pet ducks, photography, raising ducks

October 3, 2012

Growing food, Kitchen garden, Lawn & Garden

Home for the Harvest: A Photo Essay

At last! Made it through mildew, weathered the wind, hacked the humidity, beat back the bugs…five whole pumpkins! (Plus two baby jacks, not pictured.) So many plants, so few fruits… Guess we’d better tell Linus not to bother coming over on Halloween. Meanwhile, a few more snapshots from harvest time.

You know what, they really are hairy!

Bugs Bunny approved.

All that’s left of the maze.

Goodbye for now, sunflowers!

back-to-nature, cooking, edible lawn, kitchen garden, living in suburbia, nature, outdoors, photography

September 29, 2012

Growing food, Kitchen garden

Harvest Cat

We interrupt our regularly scheduled blogging to deal with harvest and other fall-related issues which may or may not include shopping for candy.

animals, back-to-nature, edible lawn, humor, kitchen garden, living in suburbia, photography

September 28, 2012

Best Laid Plans

As usual, I didn’t notice since we’d been too busy digging and weeding and harvesting to keep track of dating ducks. But the other morning, while I filled up their bath water, I could hardly ignore the, er, evidence before my bleary eyes. This time it was Fannie (I think) tying the knot with Peep. Yes, that’s right. We’ve got another drake.

Ahem.

If you’re not keeping track, here’s the score. (So to speak…)

Can you spot the males???

In the beginning, we thought we were getting six female ducklings:

Two Buff Orpington

Two Cayuga

Two Welsh Harlequin

What we actually got were:

One Buff Orpington (male)

One male and one female Cayuga

Two Welsh Harlequin females, including Gladys, our miracle duck*

Baby maybe drakes.

In terms of temperament, we wanted easy-going. The website said:

Buff Orpington: calm

Cayuga: calm

Welsh Harlequin: most calm

Note: If you’ve ever heard the screechy QWAAACK of the Welsh Harlequin female, you might hesitate to describe the Welshie as “most calm.” It’s possible, however, that the description is just missing a comma.

Little but loud…on occasion.

And then there’s the question of eggs.

According to the super-friendly and helpful folks at DucksforBackyards.com **, we could expect the following production levels:

Buff Orpington

130-180 eggs per year X 2 = 260-360 eggs per year

Actual eggs now expected: 0

Cayuga

130-180 eggs per year X 2 = 260 to 360 eggs per year

Actual eggs now expected: 130-180

Welsh Harlequin

150-200 eggs per year X 2 = 300-400 eggs per year (gulp!)

Total possible eggs per year : 430-600 eggs (!!!!)

Which, realistically speaking, is more than enough eggs for any family, any year.

Except for one thing: I had the soil tested.

Now I’m not sure we can eat even one!***

*Please note, regardless of what we planned vs. what we got, WE LOVE ALL OUR DUCKS!!! (PS, we did get a refund for the missing sixth duck.)

**The company guarantees a 90% accuracy rate regarding gender. If we’d noticed sooner, we could have gotten a few bucks back but we’re not upset by the turn of events—it makes an even better story!

***To be continued….

Gladys' Story, Growing food, Pre-ducks

animals, backyard poultry, environment, humor, living in suburbia, pet ducks, raising ducks

September 25, 2012