The ducks were quacking extra early this morning. I couldn’t figure out why they were so darn quacky at 7am, when they usually aren’t up until 8:30ish. In retrospect, I think they were chilly and complaining for a hot breakfast.
When I went down at 7:45 to let the poultry out, I had to break the ice on their watering pans. The hard frost on the garden was just simply stunning. The kids were all in bed (except George, my early-bird, who was happily playing with a spatula), so I stayed outside for a few minutes and enjoyed watching the birds scatter around the yard, crunching the frozen mulch as they flapped about, their breath trailing out in front of them.
Now, bread is rising on the counter, the baby is happily rolling about on his blanket, and there’s a Sweet Meat squash roasting to mix with some scratch so the poultry can get that hot breakfast they’ve been wanting.
Once the girls get up, we’ll work on some Christmas gift crafting while we listen to our new
Looking forward to a peaceful wintery day at home.