Shoehorning Into the Routine or Just Call Me...

Elasta Gurl!  I knew the nuggets were due to arrive last week, but I very (in)conveniently slid that particular item of knowledge to the dark recesses of my conscious brain.  I am beginning to think that my brain is like a soppy-wet sponge - nothing is being absorbed.  I had taken last Friday off because I needed to take my car in for recall work (to the --shudder-- dealer) and they needed it all day.  In my own inimitable way, I also scheduled a meet and toss with someone from FB - I meet them and toss them some of the purged items - then needed to borrow a car (since the dealer would not provide a loaner), do grocery shopping and hopefully get a little yard work done, returning the car in the late afternoon and coming home to await Sylvie's arrival - all nice and calm with a spanky clean house.  That was the plan.  What actually happened was: toddling around the house doing anything BUT cleaning, I got a call from the P.O. with the deafening roar of peeping in the background and a nice but firm request that I pick them up sooner than later.  A mad flurry of brooder set-up ensued, followed by a rushed (let's just say the only thing moving up was my blood pressure) trip behind what I felt was an impromptu funeral procession all the way north to meet with the FB people and then to the dealer, where I flung the keys at the guy and gave them a blanket "NO" on any further repairs.  This was followed by a way-too-leisurely ride to my friend's house to pick up her extra car, which she so generously offered.  It was a nice surprise when I found her home, so we had a nice cup of coffee and chat, after which I bolted out the door and made a rapid descent to the P.O. to pick up the nuggets.   Dashing home to get them set up, I placed a call to a neighbor who had shared my order.  Twiddling of thumbs while waiting.  Get his chicks in his truck and then, as soon as he left the driveway, I am back in the car and up to VT for trip #2 - grocery shopping.  Controlled race back home, put groceries away and clean(ish) the house, checking every five minutes to make sure the nuggets were okay.  They were.  This is, by far, the healthiest bunch I have ever received.   For anyone interested - Moyers Hatchery.  A Plan C was devised and I was saved from having to make a third trip to VT in one day.


Brooder condos

Squee!  Notice the little foot
poking out of the top egg?

But, wait!  What's this?  It's sure not a nugget.  Apparently, my math skills are a little shaky.  I was not expecting my duck eggs to hatch until mid-week.  I was greeted by a peeping duckling when I got home from work on Monday night, which put the kibosh on my Monday night list.  More scrambling and I set up a makeshift brooder and moved Duckling One into it (with a soft dog toy for company).  I awoke the following morning to Duckling Two and Three on the way.

We are bursting at the seams at the Little Lucky!