Duck, Duck, Greyduck

You are sitting in a circle talking and playing word games when one of the boys says, "Let's play duck, duck, greyduck, or goose. Your choice. Many had heard of it and even played it before. A few had never heard of it or played it and didn't know if they wanted to participate.

That is what I recently remembered playing as a kid. It has been at least 60 years since playing it last. This year my daughter had her son pick up a baby goose for her. Purposely to have fun with her husband. They were incubating chicken eggs, and some had recently hatched.

When they went to see them, they were all done hatching, there was the baby goose with all of the chickens. It didn't take him long to notice. Then there was, "Where did that come from?" She answered, "Austin brought it over last night." And to help matters, she named the goose after her husband.

Their goose is named Forest, which is husband Dave's middle name. He did not think that was very funny. So she said, "It isn't meant to be funny, that is her real name!"

Anyway, the goose is the only goose they have and is still a bit nervous around the rooster after watching some of his shenanigans with the chickens. And the goose has bonded with my daughter. So now she has a bird and a goose that are only hers!

The goose misses her when she is away for a few days at a time, which is her situation recently. So then she wants to spend most of her time with her momma.

The bird rides around on her shoulder and goes to work with her. I haven't seen much of the bird as of late. Austin is caring for the bird while they are building as she thinks it is too hot for her bird in the cabin while they are building.

On Sunday we stopped out as she called asking if we had any triple antibiotic and some surgical cloth. They were butchering chickens and she cut her finger. Of course we did and we went right out. We were planning on stopping out after John's nap but now it was imperative we go right then.

I asked if she shouldn't go to Urgent Care and she said, "I was on my way into the Emergency Roon and changed my mind. It will be okay!" I said, remember nurses are the worst patients. I know you have heard that before!

She said, "I'm fine. When can you bring the triple antibiotic and the bandages?" Right now was my response. Damn kids! At 51, I shouldn't feel like I am talking to a youngster! Her and all of her critters. She takes her bird to the vet way more than she visits the doctor.

My teen grandson spent his time in the camper while we were visiting and when I asked where Paxton was, the answer was that he was upset about the butchering. Apparently, they started with two of his favorites. Then the twelve-year-old was to blame for some reason.

She stated that it really was the parents' fault for butchering as all of their chickens have names and are really family pets. Both parents, almost at the same time said they were no longer meat farmers. Meaning they would no longer be butchering.

They did have the set up though. A funnel thing to put your chicken in upside down to chop the head off. I said that they didn't have that when I watched the process of chickens being butchered.

I then went on to describe how I saw a chicken with its head chopped off that climbed a telephone pole and was walking on the wire with no head. It was traumatic for me and I didn't eat chicken for years after. And just thinking about that time makes me not want to eat chickens again.

So, not that you asked but I won't be helping with the butchering. We left shortly after and back to butchering they went.