Newmarket Let me share a story that really shouldn’t be called a story, because really it’s a “truth,” although my husband would disagree. After 10 years, he still won’t let us live it down. Let me share with you.
Ubon Ratchathani About ten years ago, we lived in Oregon, right down in the Willamette (Will am et -as in ‘set’) Valley and planted a large garden each year. In about March, we gathered seeds, trays, and soil to get a good “greenhouse” started for our beloved tomato plants. Dh was the head of the garden and always prepared these little seeds for the few months in the home before being transplanted. He lovingly set them on a table next to the window in the dining room and placed toothpicks in the soil and used plastic kitchen wrap as a covering.
http://nitetrainband.com/index.php?Itemid=29 Before leaving to go out of town for a few days, he exhorted us NOT to touch his precious seedlings, which varied between 1 and 4 inches in height, by that time. Kissing him good bye, we all assured him that all would be well.
Meanwhile, we were occasionally hearing a strange sound in the living room chimney. We all guessed there was a mouse up in there and thought it would eventually go away. The little noises were heard for several days, throughout the day. We’d comment on them, but mostly ignore them.
One bright day, one of my boys, who would have been about six at the time, and his little sister, who was probably about four, were in the living room minding their own business. The rest of us were in varying parts of the house. I was in the dining room, doing some schoolwork with some of the children. All of a sudden this indescribable noise, accompanied by screams, came from the living room when a black bird of some kind came down the chimney and was floundering in the large fireplace. I ran into the room just at the moment the bird hit the screen, which fell over, freeing the feathered creature. The fowl hit the living room window and fell to the floor behind the couch, spreading soot and ash everywhere.
We guessed it was a crow or blackbird. I called for a son to, “quick! Go get Daddy’s fishing net out of the boat!” Peeking behind the couch, we discovered it was a small black, iridescent duck!
Presently, son ran back into the room with the long handled net. I tried to get a good grab at the duck, but it decided this was not a good situation and took flight in the living room and headed for the dining room, straight to the windows and, you guessed it, the trays of seedlings! I quickly ordered a child to open the back door, which was directly next to the windows. Floundering sufficiently in the trays, and with much prodding, the duck finally made its way out the back door and the house became still. Whew!
We looked at each other, looked at Dad’s starts, and said, “he’ll NEVER believe THIS!”
To this day, he still pokes and prods us about that. When something isn’t quite right, or there’s a hammer missing, he’ll say, “I bet that duck did it.”