Obvious steps along life’s road to happiness
A week or so ago, my body started provisionally accepting Wisconsin as my new home. It’s been almost three months since I moved here from Urbana, Illinois, and I’m so much more at ease and happy!
Did that have anything to do with ducks? Who knows. But two weeks ago, seven little ducklings moved in.
I’m excited for them to have their own outside place with water to splash around in. They will likely live inside the chicken pen, but they need their own house, it turns out.
Duck houses need to be lower to the ground, and easy to clean, because they are MeSsY. There are other requirements too. Apparently ducks are pushy and won’t “get in a row” to go in and out of the house, so the door needs to fit two ducks wide so they don’t hurt each other. Who knew?
Of course I have over-engineered some duck house plans. I should be building it this week or next. New materials would run about $300, though, so before I buy a single board I’ll be poking around the farm’s scrap piles and the local surplus stores to see what can be salvaged. Some compromises are coming. All part of the fun!
Work at the farm where I help out a few days a week has been rewarding. I learn stuff every day, and I’m also reminded that I already know a lot of useful things. I plan to feel that way for the rest of my life.
I’ve been thinking about why the ducks helped. I think it’s this: you can’t reason your way into feeling at home somewhere. Your body decides on its own schedule, and it seems to decide fastest when your hands are busy building something that assumes a future, a duck house, a garden row, a life. If you’re in your own in-between right now, waiting to feel settled: maybe don’t wait. Get the ducks. Build the house. The feeling follows the building, not the other way around.
Don’t worry, I’ll post photos of the growing ducks and their new mansion soon.
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