Let me tell you a story. It begins almost six years ago when we went to New Zealand as a family. We rented a campervan for three weeks and drove all over both the North and South Islands. I totally fell in love with the country. One night we stopped in a place where there happened to be ducks. My husband has always liked ducks. He had raised ducks before we were married. My oldest daughter liked feeding the ducks. They both decided we should get some ducks.
Although it was fall in NZ while we were there, it was spring when we returned home. Not entirely enthusiastic about ducks, nonetheless, I went to the feed store and bought six ducklings. They were cute and, as baby animals do, they grew up into ducks. After a period of time, we were down to one duck named Duck. I actually liked her a lot. She didn’t have a flock so she would hang out on the patio with the cats. If you quacked at her, she would quack back. Sadly, a coyote had Duck for dinner.
I was relieved to no longer have ducks. My daughters went away to college. My husband decided he wanted to raise ducks again. I lost the battle against having more ducks. He reinforced the pen to keep out predators and ordered 18 ducks through the mail. It was entirely too many ducks. The drakes were cruel to the hens. After we lost half the hens to drake abuse, we donated the rest to our neighbors who also tend chickens, goats and horses.
The story gets ugly here and I won’t go in to too much of the gruesome details. Suffice it to say that the remaining ducks are cannibalistic, homosexual necrophiliacs. Use you imagination if you must. After the final ugly duck homicide, the flock has settled in.
Today I do not feel particularly good physically or emotionally. It’s gray and cold. I might be coming down with something, changing seasons, blah, blah, blah. It doesn’t matter. I still have to take care of the ducks. I went outside to give them water. The connection from the hose to the pump was broken. I got another hose, short and kinked, turned it on and it went wild! It flopped all over the place, drenched my leg, shot water down my boot and sprayed me in the face. The ground surrounding the duck bowl is frozen solid. Icy and wet = me falling on my butt if I’m not very careful. It’s difficult to be remain cautious wrangling a hose on ice but I did remain upright!
I’m sure this would have made a great movie scene but I wasn’t feeling too captivated by the situation. When all was said and done, I stopped and looked at the ducks sliding on the ice and dunking their heads in the bowl. They could care less how cold, slippery or wet it is. It’s a matter of perspective.
Afterwards, I took a walk with two of our dogs for about 45 minutes and returned feeling less grumpy. Tina, at Open Roads Coaching, has a Grinch Jar Project. If you are feeling grumpy during the holiday season, just jot your complaint down and toss it in the jar for later. I already have two cards in my jar. I suspect there will be a few more before the holidays are done.
Even though all days do not feel enchanted, it’s still possible to bring humor into my day and take things a little less seriously. It helps to keep things in perspective.