Incoming Duck Missile!
In our ever lasting search for a water supply that would last the summer, dad tried many things.
In the summer of 1983, the year Keith had his accident, he and I dug a pipeline 660 feet through the woods, in the heat of summer, to a small brook that we somehow managed to get a huge concrete culvert pipe into. I remember the distance based on the amount of plastic pipe dad bought to lay down. When I was home this summer, I saw someone has a smaller culvert pipe in the same location.
Another thing he had done, tho I really don’t remember when, was he had a bulldozer dig out a big reservoir up behind the house on the hill. The water wasn’t very good, but sometimes in summer we’d lay a pipe across the ground and use gravity flow for water to flush the toilet at least.
To me it was always called the reservoir, but to many others it became known as the duck pond, cause sometime thereafter, dad also got 3 ducks, 1 male and a female, with the intent I guess of raising them for sale? give away? hobby? Not really sure anymore. But let me tell you, the eggs were amazing. So much better than chicken eggs!
We eventually got rid of them, mostly I think cause when we’d let them out, they’d often go down across Alice’s yard to the beach, and she complained about them and the duck crap.
But before we did, I remember they had at least one brood of young ducks. I can still remember them waddling across the yard following their mother.
One of the young ones was a little … slow. He had trouble keeping up, was unbalanced and un-coordinated. Hmmm….. No I am talking about the duck, not me!
I never realized how protective the mother ducks could be, and for some reason this one never seemed to like me much. The others would let me pet them, but she’d just hiss at me.
Well, if you know our old house, there was a rock wall dad made holding the hill back surrounding it. One day this slower duck, who’s name was not Peter, fell over the wall, and his mother was in a tizzy.
I went outside to pick him up and put him back up, but his mother didn’t like that either.
It was like a missile launched from a battle ship. All I remember was feathers and hissing as I was bombarded!
Raised in outport Newfoundland in a town of 65 people, I pursued a post secondary diploma in Information Technology right out of High School.
I’ve always been a geek at heart, but yet I love the rural life I grew up with. Fishing, hunting, camping and the great outdoors are still loves of mine, even if I don’t pursue them as often as I once did. Sports were always a big part of our lives, and I played many (badly) and loved them all.
Incoming Duck Missile!
- Cocks and HensGrowing up, one of my favorite things to do was to go cod fishing. Its funny, but we never called it that, a trip to the fishing grounds was usually just called going out in boat. I guess the two just naturally went together, I mean why else go out …
- Nickels on the train trackThe Bonavista Branch line stopped running in 1986 from what I can see, though had been reduced in service prior to that. Most of the young people now can’t remember the joys (some sarcasm may be included here) of stopping for the train at the bar hill, in Shoal Harbour, …
- The Night of the BroomMany years ago, a man who shall remain nameless used to drive around with several shovels, and a broom standing in a rack in the back of his pickup. I really have no idea why, I can only assume it was a target for some mischievous young lads. I really …
A little About Me
Some views of Halifax, and an Intro from Me