The gentleman in Texas relented and sent me a breeder's dozen (in this case, 14) of Trout Runner duck eggs. Four were crushed enroute (I love the USPS but occasionally they take a rugby match attitude towards packages) and their contents spread all over everything, so he sent me 10 replacement eggs for the cost of shipping. If anything goes wrong after this, I'm pretty sure it will be my fault, not his. I washed off the first batch with an egg disinfectant and popped it in the incubator and pretty much commenced worrying as if worrying could do anything to help hatch an egg.
The first batch of eggs has a due date of Friday, May 17th. However, one egg is a rockin' and a rollin' and squeaking furiously right now. Please, little duck, hatch and be well. I told my poor beleaguered spouse that I really need to be shipped off to an extended weekend to Anywhere But Here right about now, because I'm going to be hovering and twittering and chewing fingernails up to elbows until I know everything is going to be okay. And it's early. And they need to be left alone to get on with things. And telling me not to worry is like telling a fire not to burn, ain't gonna happen and we all know it. Phoo. The second batch of eggs is due in three and a half weeks, so we have this nerve-wracking wait to do all over again. Gah.
I have 20 tomato plants, a bell pepper plant, and an Anaheim chili plant to put in the ground. Every time I get up the resolution to dig holes, the wind decides it's going to blow through here at 55 miles per hour. Does somebody sit outside my house and take notes for this sort of thing? Yeah, she's getting motivated to do something, what can we throw in the works to screw that up? On the other hand, all of the fruit trees are still alive (if you knew me, you'd know how...well, unprecedented that is) and despite my best efforts a couple are trying to bear fruit. I've decided that I don't care if my Morello cherry tree ever gives me a crop, the tree itself is beautiful enough to keep around just because. On the other hand, I'd really like to try to make cherry preserves and I've read Morellos are just about perfect for that purpose. So, I guess pretty will work but pretty plus fruit would be wonderful.
I did well at going to the gym for about a week, and then realized that I can't afford the gas to get there. So I have a couple of choices: 1. figure out how to exercise around the house (and we all know how that's been working out) or 2. go to the gym when I can take the spouse's econobox. So far neither of those choices has been my all-time favorite but if I want to lose weight - heck, screw the weight, if I want to feel healthy again - I'm going to have to find a way to make what I have work instead of wasting time pining after perfect scenarios. I'm leaning towards getting up at two in the morning so I can hit the gym, work myself into exhaustion, come home and collapse into a heap without being fussed over. That's really going to take a profound internal-clock makeover. Worth it. But oh, ouch. I love my sleep. I get a little psychotic if my sleep is twiddled with. I don't want to do this - but I sort of have to if I'm ever going to see my feet again. It's still going to take another couple of weeks before I work myself into it, but if I can get the routine going it will be so very worth it.