It’s king tide time here at the ocean, otherwise known as the highest projected tide of the year. In town, a tsunami pod seller will be handing out business cards for their $7900 life-saving device at the end of the Shilo Inn’s parking lot all weekend.
After eight months of duck motherhood, I spied – for the very first time – one, two, oh my goodness, three, no four ducks eggs in a dark corner of one the strawed dog houses. Raking their clumps of yogurty turds had never been sweeter.
It turns out muscovy hens can lay up to sixteen eggs at once, which, if you’ve ever seen a squirrel or gerbil fill their mouths, is the only way I imagine a duck’s wavy belly might look right before the lay.
I keep getting whiffs of my fingers, and not knowing where the smell came from worries me. Seeing the feta container on the counter just now sure was a relief. Hand-cut french fries, tossed in oil and baked at 425 until crispy, topped with feta, sumac, and garlic lemon aioli, was quite the pre-dinner treat.
I saw today that a pair of eagles laid two eggs in a nest in California that has a webcam posted on it. Since it takes 35 days for an eaglet to emerge, and it’s already been nine, means we only have 26 more to go. Here’s the link if you’re interested.
I’m doing that stare-off and shaking my head back to the present thing. And then scrolling Offerup for banker’s lamps – Dave thinks the table I write upon needs one. I disagree, but I can always look for a good deal.
That’s all she wrote folks. Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 