I know you've been waiting with baited breath for the continuation of the scintillating love story between Duckster and the Duck From the Wrong Side of the Road. And I shall bring it to you.
There the devastatingly beautiful DivaHick (hey throwing myself a bone here...) peered out the kitchen window, straining to see beyond the yard through the swiftly swirling snow. (OK- TOTALLY busted out the English degree there...) Alas, looking for a white duck in the snow was like, well, looking for a white duck in the snow. When, oh when, would the FarmerGeek return to the homestead full of wit and wisdom and an answer on how to rectify this situation. She wrung her hands and fretted. She paced the length of her immaculate kitchen whilst something yummy simmered on the stove and she twisted her apron in her perfectly manicured hands. (Can't you just give me this one please?)
Finally, FarmerGeek returned to the completely paid off homestead (I just had to get one more in, I'm sorry) and announced that there was nothing they could do, the search would have to be called off due to weather. Of course, they tossed and turned in the warm bed worried over the fate of the beloved duck. What if she didn't go across the road? What if a mink or fox got her? Oh no OH NO! Finally the alarm went off and it was still snowing. Not only that, but the farmers across the street would be gone for the day. Dare we risk the wrath of Sam the llama in our search? No we decided to wait another day before raiding the farm. We did however, go into the back sixty and comb for any suspicious patch of white feathers with our stealth bloodhounds. To our great relief, nothing was turned up.
Finally, the next day, the DivaHick caught a glimpse out her window of a group of ducks and there was just something about the one... Could it be? FarmerGeek donned hat and coat and gloves (remember the teeth and nails thing) and headed over. He found the duck in question, but really how does one tell one white Muscovy duck from the other? FarmerBrother1 from across the street answered that quickly- they clip their ducks' wings, if the duck doesn't have a clipped wing... (ouch- OK I know I know...) So they wrangled the duck into the position and clipped one of her wings. Now before PETA starts flaming my blog, they trim some of the feathers on one wing to throw off their balance. It doesn't hurt and will have to be redone when she molts.
So our prodigal duck had returned, older, wiser, yet discontented with her celibate life. As she was put back into the run she hissed angrily "Let go of me you bastards, there's no way in hell that I'm getting back into Castle Anthrax" to which we responded "There are men in there you silly goose..." And Duckster furiously hissed back, "Watch it bea-atch I'm a duck not a goose."
How will Duckster cope being separated from her lover? How will the other hens handle a more experienced bird in the house? Will more birds escape? Will Hermione and Harry ever cheat on Ron and Ginny? Will I ever stop asking stupid questions? Find out tomorrow on "As the Coop Turns" (or should it be "Eggs of our Lives" or "General Homestead"?)