It’s time
When Orlin and I farmed in Boon Lake Township, we pretty much took the lead of my parents as to what to do and when. We raised Mallard ducks for butchering in the dead of winter. We butchered them in cold weather as all new feathers were pretty well filled out to the max for their warmth. Prior to that, the itty bitty feathers just breaking through the skin were called pin feathers and each and every one would have to be plucked out by hand. The larger feathers were able to be pulled out by grabbing multiple ones and giving them a yank after the duck had been scalded in hot water. One drake and several hens were left to run so we could collect the eggs for hatching out the next years batch for the freezer.
Being the farm kid that I am, this springtime is the time of the year I would be getting on thick canvas gloves and deciding which of the laying hens had developed chucking tendencies over the winter months. The egg laying was no longer their mantra. These hens just wanted to sit on eggs and become clucks, thus keeping eggs hot enough to eventually hatch. There was no denying which hens were the target. I would get anywhere near the nest they were sitting in and they puffed up to three times their normal size and peck with becks that you swore they had sharpened.
The held over ducks had a separate area in the hen house during the winter so collecting the eggs would be easy to do. Early eggs were discarded as the timing of the hatched ducking did not want to happen during the worst of the winter. Orlin made a spot in the dairy barn for several wooden crates that were just large enough for a straw nest to be rounded out when filled with a dozen eggs plus a fluffed out cluck. Thereby, was our incubation area. Three of the clucks were captured and taken to the wooden boxes where each box had 8 to 10 hen eggs in it for the clucks to begin getting cozy with, and this would be their home for the next while before we put the intended target of duck eggs into the nests. Each of the three crates were far apart from each other as to not entice a cluck to visit any crate but their own. To achieve that, each cluck had a twine sting tied to an ankle that was long enough for them to get out of the crate and reach the ample water and feed that each of them had for themselves. Orlin put up several heat lamps to make sure the clucks were warm. Sound cruel? That is how it was done.
When my Mom gave the word, I started saving the duck eggs. I had a window of 10 days to save up enough duck eggs for each of the three clucks to begin sitting on. After the ten days, the eggs would no longer be deemed fertile. On the tenth day the hen eggs the clucks had learned to nurture were removed and swapped out with the duck eggs. Putting fresh water and plenty of feed was done during the time Orlin and I were in the barn for milking the dairy heard. There never was a fear that Carrie or Kevin would bother the incubation area as the kids were not fond of the laying hens, let alone the clucks that were pecking monsters.
Long about the 26th day, we would begin checking the nests as the earliest eggs could show signs of hatching. Again, the canvas gloves worn with heavy jackets that covered our arms were used to gently lift the cluck off to see if any of the eggs were showing signs that the baby ducks were pecking their way out into the real world. Amazingly, the percentage of ducks that would hatch was quite high. As the baby ducks got themselves clear of the cast off egg shell, we transported them into a small pen complete with heat lamps to keep them warm. It didn’t take long for them to get the hang of the water and feed as we would take them, one by one, and dip their little beaks into the offerings. At this point Carrie and Kevin were all about checking the ducklings out when they were in the barn with us. They loved holding the little fur balls of yellow and black in their hands.
It was a routine that was repeated several times to have each of the cluck hatch out at least two batches of ducklings. In the spring of the year, the pen for the quickly-developing ducks was surrounded by a fence to keep them safe. There was a high demand in the early winter seasons of people who would purchase dressed and frozen ducks that were ready for the oven. It was a good little side income right before Christmas.
Just at arms length . . . I never lack for busy work to keep my fingers nimble and keep my family guessing.
What prompted me to think of this today: January 25th, 2015? I have been making use of these colder icy winter days to try out some of my crafting items. With a lower back problem that prompts me to move from area to area within the home, I can be found either in the basement sewing room, in the west porch sitting in Great Grandma Laura’s rocking chair reading, or moving from the sofa to a side chair with threads and yarns. The very busy area around the spool cabinet reminded me of an incubation area of what is yet to be turned out as I hatch out finished projects. Oh yes, for the love of all things that involve puzzling through patterns, checking out correct gauges of crochet stitches and counting out squares for counted cross stitch patterns to make sense, you never know what I will hatch out, less the twine string tied to one of my ankles.
In life, please remember to give and have no memory of it, or take and remember it always.