Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Farming must be genetic. Being raised on a catch-all farm with a collection of critters that did little more than to satisfy the beckoning of my father's soul of the need to have them surrounding him, the homesteading gene was passed along strongly. Of the five girls in our family only my sister and I inherited it, and in our home only one, possibly two, kiddos seem to have a knack and love for raising animals like their grandfather did.
Ever the farmer and business man, Cole ordered some ducklings from the local Co-op. They were purchased with the intent being for resale, although I've heard much begging to keep "just two." Nope, we've tried ducks over the years and there is just no place around here for them. Granted we have a pond, but being that pond freezes over in our cold Wisconsin winters means those same ducks have to house with the chickens in the below zero weather - a mess the chickens don't appreciate, either. So, we'll be content to enjoy their peeping and waddling antics for the next couple of days while they grace our basement with their cuteness.
Even if he doesn't make his fortunes on them the excitement, plus the memories made, were worth more than any green printed paper bills could ever pay for. What would the cost be to look in the rear view mirror and see all those smiling faces? Little girls wearing shorts and cowgirl boots, sneaking the favorite farm cat with for a van ride, giggling over baby ducks pecking your fingers, and being happy to do chores: priceless.