Ever since school started back up, I’ve been trying to get back into a routine. Not that I’ve been very successful with that endeavor. Although I always have good intentions.
Today was an excellent example. I wanted to walk my five miles. Check. Clean my room. Fail. Organize my photography props. Fail. Get my eyebrows plucked. Check.
Clearly my priorities are not where they should be.
I was doing just fine until after the eyebrow yanking appointment. I had plenty of time to get home and clean before the girls got off the bus. But as I was driving home, I saw a bunch of ducks fly across the road and plop into a nearby pond.
Don’t ask me why I felt the need to investigate. They were just ducks after all. I see them pretty often around here.
But the carefree spirit side of me took a hold of my brain and off we went to see the ducks. We meaning me. And no, I’m not Sybil. I don’t think.
So, I crossed a little bridge and watched the ducks for a bit. A mom and her toddler daughter also came over the bridge to check out the ducks.
They brought a loaf of bread along to feed them which was pretty hysterical to watch. I haven’t gone with the kids to feed the ducks in years. I forgot how much of a pleasure that is to watch.
Way back in the way back, Jeff and I came to Plymouth on one of our first dates. We had a huge bag of popcorn and I made the grave mistake of tossing some of it to what seemed like just a couple of ducks.
But after that first toss of popcorn, there were tons of hungry ducks coming at me quacking for popcorn. This scared the crap out of me, so I ran.
All the while the popcorn was falling out of the bag, and the ducks continued to chase me down the waterfront. I was in tears. Jeff was breaking ribs from being doubled over in fits of laughter.
Maybe that’s why I don’t feed the ducks much anymore. I have duck anxiety.
But today from the relative safety of the bridge, it was a pleasure to watch them pluck the cubes of bread out of the water. The toddler giggled each time a duck gobbled up a chunk of bread.
Isn’t it amazing how a child’s laughter is infectious? She had me giggling too. I need to giggle more often. Giggling is a good thing.
I didn’t get the cleaning done. It’s still looking a little unruly around here.
Tomorrow I get back to a routine. Maybe.