I stood at the kitchen sink and gently washed altar linens for my parish as I listened to the quacks of four ducklings who played in their brooder nearby. A jar of sourdough starter bubbled on the counter, and a two-layered sari wrap skirt swished around my knees as I hung purificators and finger towels on a drying rack.
I grinned and shook my head in disbelief. This moment was yet another occasion of "things I never had imagined would be part of my life." My sourdough starter, which I began last winter, is miraculously still alive (for now!). After a years-long process, I was eventually able to get on the schedule for church altar linens a few years ago. And now, we have four rapidly growing ducklings.
I've never raised animals, but about five or six years ago, my husband started talking about backyard chickens. Friends from church raised chickens and seemed to enjoy them. We loved the idea of gathering freshly-laid eggs, and the image of raising a little flock of chickens was lovely. However, I asked my husband if we could save the chicken conversation for the future. At the time, we only had babies and toddlers (our oldest may have reached preschool age, I honestly can't remember) and I could not add animals into the mix. So, we stopped talking about chickens.
But I still thought about this topic. As daffodils burst through the ground each spring, my thoughts would drift to chickens and quiet question that lingered in our home: should we finally get chickens? A few years ago, a friend from church helpfully informed me when a local feed store got a shipment of little chicks--but no, the timing didn't feel right. Every so often, I'd peruse hatchery websites and read articles about different chicken breeds. I'd glance through coop designs and think about the elusive "someday" when the time seemed right.
About a year ago, as I was scrolling through articles about chickens, I came across one which made an interesting claim: that raising ducks is a simpler process than raising chickens. That sounds really nice, I thought. But, we don't have a pond. I clicked away from that article and put the image of ducks out of my mind.
As last summer began, all of my thoughts on chickens bubbled up to the surface. Should 2025 be the year for chickens? With my oldest kids being elementary school-aged, the idea of raising chickens seemed easier to comprehend. I began to more seriously hunt around hatchery websites and homesteading blogs for information. While checking the social media account of an Oklahoma farm one day, I noticed a post about how a farmer was focusing more on ducks instead of chickens, since ducks were more disease-resistant, hardier, and easier to care for. Then, I saw another farmer's post about how her ducks did not require ponds, and instead happily played in small kiddie pools when they weren't running around the backyard.
I fired off messages to these local farmers and asked for more information. My mind spun. Not all ducks needed ponds? Could we get ducks--and should we?
I started looking up articles and videos about backyard ducks as my curiosity grew. And then, as I put away my laptop after duck research one evening, I noticed that the left side of my body was simultaneously sore and on fire.
Mastitis had struck.
I spent the next day and a half lying in bed, unable to sleep with the discomfort. I nursed my baby, I prayed, and I watched a little bit of Batman: The Animated Series. Much of the time, however, I could barely keep my eyes open. And so, interspersed with all of my prayers came thoughts of my recent research into ducks. I lay there, sore and exhausted and depleted in every way, and I could not stop thinking about ducks. The image of feathered ducks dashing around our yard would not leave my mind.
When I began to recover, I informed my husband of my recent revelations: "I think we need to get ducks."
I emailed a hatchery, placed an order, and wrote "DUCKLINGS HATCH" on the calendar page for October.
Finally, as my kids and I were beginning our Nature Study on the porch one day, we got that wonderful and long-awaited phone call from the local post office.
"Ducks are more important than classwork!" one of my kids yelled as we threw our materials down and jumped into the minivan.
To my relief and delight, all four ducks were energetic and happy and immediately tried to jump out of the box and onto the kitchen table. We put them into the brooder bin and watched them run around, peck at their new surroundings, and attempt to jump out of that.
Although I've birthed five children, in the first few days of owning ducklings, I found myself entering First Time Mom Mode.
They aren't drinking enough water! (plunges their bills in water repeatedly so they know where the water tray is)
They are too cold! (coaxes them under the heat plate)
They are trying to fall asleep but they haven't eaten any food! (gently coaxes the sleepy ducklings out of the heat plate and over to the food tray)
There was also the panicked phone call to Tractor Supply at 8 p.m. on a Thursday night as a hailstorm was just beginning, because I realized that I had given the ducklings a little bit of chopped lettuce but didn't have grit for them--did I need to drive over immediately to buy some? ("I talked with the cashier and I want to put your mind at ease that I think they'll be okay for tonight, and you can wait until tomorrow to buy grit." Thank you, wonderful Tractor Supply Employee!)
Priest I barely know exits the rectory and greets our family. "How are you?"
"We're doing well, thanks! Enjoying this weather. It's so nice outside, we took our ducklings on a field trip to the backyard and the baby just crawled around after them; it was super cute."
I have quickly become obsessed with our ducklings, and I feel compelled to share these delightful creatures with the world. But really, how can you resist when you walk into the garage one morning to be greeted like this?
I've been told that chickens are fun, but ducklings are delightful. They are messy and friendly and social and hilarious. Perhaps this occasion is the one time in which my tendency to overthinking and over-researching led to a really good outcome, because that is what eventually led me to think of ducks. And while mastitis was not the only factor at work, getting stuck in bed with mastitis, where I could only think about ducks, certainly contributed to the decision.
The ducklings are 4 1/2 weeks old now and they are huge (they tripled in size within the first two weeks) and they are quickly getting their feathers in. They are messy and stinky and mischievous, and I am so grateful to God that we get to experience this adventure!
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