I don't think I've ever mentioned the name of our farm.  The name Leaning Duck Farm may sound a little odd, but it has a deeper meaning that may not be immediately obvious. You see, when the husb...I mean, IDP, and I got married, we blended two existing families. So my kids, with the last name Lucke, and his kids, with the last name Dean, came up with a new name for our family. We were thereafter known as the Lean Ducks. We even (jokingly) called our house, Lean Duck Manor. We always dreamed of owning a farm one day, and carrying the name with us, so when IDP and I dragged ourselves to the mountains over a year ago, we knew what we would name our farm.

Of course, as it happens in marriage, the two primary forces often disagree. In this case, I wanted to stick with the traditions of Lean Duck Farm, and the IDP wanted to change it up a little so it made more sense. And everyone knows a leaning duck is better than a skinny one...? (This is where I scrunch up my face in confusion.) I still don't get it, but the farm is now officially Leaning Duck Farm. And our mascot is...a chicken.  

That's right, we have forty-four birds (thirty-one chickens and thirteen turkeys) but not a single duck.

Don't say it, I know what you're thinking. How can you have a farm named after a duck if you don't have any ducks? Well, we had ducks. The evil garden gnome (also known as the fox) ate them. I keep telling IDP we need more ducks, but so far, we just keep adding to the other feathered varieties around here.  But mark my words, we will have ducks again. And soon.

But for now, I guess I'd better go feed the chickens before they beat down the kitchen door to steal my loaf of sourdough bread. Those chickens love their bread.

Until the next time...I'll be painting the dining room.