Sunday, January 2, 2011
I was just cutting the curds in my second batch of cheddar this morning. On the counter next to me was the start of some homemade biscuits (the flour, salt and baking powder mixed with the home rendered lard waiting for the SB's wake up time, it is after all, his birth week celebration). I realized I hadn't heard the ducks in a while, and like small children, one should be concerned they are up to something when they are not making copious amounts of noise... So I put down my curd cutting knife and look out the window. Yes, they were there at the alley, contemplating a sprint across the gravel to the neighbors yard. So I stopped everything and dashed outside in my yoga pants and apron to bring the ducks back to the garden where they could roam in a state of semi freedom while I attended to the more pressing tasks of making cheese and breakfast. We are so effing homestead here I can't stand it.