A friend of mine is getting married this summer (she deserves major props for undertaking all the Covid-related planning this requires). She was asking me for advice about managing pre-wedding stress and I reminded her of what people had advised me before my own wedding: as much as you can, slow down and enjoy the experience. Something is bound to go wrong on the day but it won’t ruin the whole event. (My wedding day “oops” was forgetting my veil back at our Air Bnb and having to send my friend to go retrieve it while our wedding guests patiently waited for the ceremony to start.) I’m seeing how this advice can be useful to me these days, too. There is SO MUCH to decide on, to learn, to do…I hurled myself into the deep end of a pool I didn’t know how to swim in and am now quickly attempting to learn even a doggie paddle. Perfectionist that I am, I want to get everything right, whether it’s the best possible coop for our ducks, the most efficient compost heap, the perfectly laid-out plots of organic herbs and peach trees. But I have to remind myself to slow down, enjoy the journey. Expect that things will go “wrong” but that won’t ruin everything.

I stumbled on an incredible resource lately in a totally surprising form: Facebook groups. Now, I’m not a huge Facebook person (I really only use it to ask a question en mass or to do a last minute promo of an upcoming event). But something encouraged me to poke around on there for local resources for new residents and I found…DUCK groups. This has become my latest and very real obsession. Here are communities of people just like me who are posting questions, photos, tips, and troubleshooting. Multiple times a day! My new morning routine is this: wake up, read the NY Times daily briefing over my Earl Grey, then hop on my exercise bike and scroll through the latest quackings in my groups. Who knew that learning about duck nutrition and breed temperaments could be so riveting? Sometimes I even lose track of time and blow past my mileage goal. (So really, it’s a win-win. I’m learning about my newest hobby and counteracting the effects of Covid-comfort eating). I’ll post a question such as: Do you guys recommend I put anything down in the duck run over the grass or leave as is? And in 5 minutes I have just as many answers from people all over the country. Which reminds me of something I heard on the Definitely Not Simple Life Podcast which was, “if you ask 10 farmers the same question, you’ll get 11 different answers.” It’s proving to be true. Everyone has brilliant and creative ways they’ve solved the duck waterer issue. Or how they keep moisture down in the coop. Or designs for their in-ground, aerated, duck pond with a French drainage system. (Can you see why I’m getting a little overwhelmed?) At a certain point Alan and I are going to just have to jump in and cater a situation that works for us.

Originally we’d planned to use the existing chicken coop to house the ducks at night. It’s already fenced in so we’d just have to bury a perimeter of hardware cloth to prevent predators from digging their way in and get a secure door for the coop itself. But the coop is a bit small. Yes, we’re planning on only getting 3-4 ducks but I’ve been reading about the phenomenon of duck math… Basically, your flock has a way of multiplying very quickly. You go to the store for feed and come back with more baby ducks. Or one of your fellow Facebook group members is looking to unload some of their hens and you just can’t resist. So the recommendation is to build a structure bigger than what you need so it’s already in place for your future acquisitions. (And knowing myself, this is a very, very good idea.) So we decided to keep the coop for them to use when they’re outside and need some temporary shelter. Which means…we’re in the process of converting the garden shed into their nighttime shelter! It’s got plenty of room and as my brother in law said, if it were in the Hamptons we could rent it out for thousand dollars a week. (What lucky ducks!) There is some work to be done on it. Namely, plugging up the holes along the floor where the mice have come in. And cleaning out all “remnants” of said mice. (Yuck. We wore face masks but I was still wheezing and coughing for the rest of the day.) Ducks need ventilation, so we’re going to take out some boards on the back wall to create windows, cover them with hardware cloth (to keep predators out), and attach a roll of canvas or plastic tarp to the top which we can roll down in colder or wetter months. I also decided to paint the interior white to make it look a little cheerier and help to protect the wood from deteriorating too quickly. The shed (which will have a much wittier name in time once we settle on something. Quack Shack? Hen House? Duck Den?), abuts the penned in area, so we’ll have to make a door in the back that folds down into a runway for the ducks to enter their little outdoor oasis. I’m in the process of researching duck-friendly plants that I can put along the outer perimeter for easy feeding. And I contacted a gardener who is going to attempt a little pond with aquatic plants in the woods behind our property which are already pretty swampy. (Like I said, lucky ducks.) It’s outside of Sadie’s invisible fence line so I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping them apart.

Before we get there, though, we’ve got to get the ducklings. I actually changed my mind about breed and have settled on…[drumroll]…the darling Welsh Harlequins! They’re 4-5 pounds full grown, have beautiful markings, are fantastic layers, and are very docile. There’s a farmer a few hours away (who I found via Facebook, of course), who will be hatching some in April and added me to her list for 3 hens! April is coming up fast, so we’ve got our work cut out for us. But my research has suggested that the ducklings should stay inside for the first month anyway (except for some supervised outdoor explorations around 3 weeks of age), which means we won’t need to have the finishing touches done on the shed until May. As for the indoor baby brooder, I have all my supplies ready to go! I feel like an expectant mama with the “go bag” ready by the door… I have hot water bottles, an electric heating pad, a feather duster (all to create warmth and replace the extremely dangerous heat lamps), the drawer liners and newspaper for grip and absorption, the brewer’s yeast to sprinkle on their food for extra niacin, and the plastic tub to house it all in. (Yes, of course, pictures to follow.)

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In music news, it’s been equally busy. Frankly, I’m so surprised and beyond grateful that Covid hasn’t completely stamped out my artistic outlets. Yes, I lost some concert gigs because of lockdown but I know people who lost their long term jobs and livelihood when Broadway closed its doors. So I don’t take lightly that I have a unique situation where my husband can support us for now and I cobble together virtual gigs where I can. Last week I was interviewed for the radio show, The Jam Session Radio Hour on WLIW 88.3, and loved getting to dig in and discuss my musical life. (The segment is available on their website.) And the remote recordings I did with some fellow musicians for the episode were good for my soul; to feel a little sense of that connection and collaboration, even if it wasn’t in real time. My band, The Buttery Barmaids, released a new music video of which I am so proud! We did our first collaboration with another trio band, which is kind of nuts when you think about all the elements that had to go into the production. I keep watching it over and over because it’s so fun and sassy and makes me dream of when we could perform together on stage. Check it out here: Jackson. I’m also recording some music for a few churches since they’re mostly providing their services online as well! The new sound equipment I bought at the beginning of the year is already proving to be such a good investment.

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One last word about the homesteading before I close. Learning about relationships between animals and the earth through things like composting has been so deeply gratifying. I’ve always loved nature (and even dirt, which I unabashedly handled whenever I could as a kid). But now I’m completely awed by the potential of a small piece of land. There really is a harmonious circle of life (seed to food to compost to fertilizer to seed), and I want to be in it, to play my part in helping it along. I’ve been feeling a low-level panic that there’s so much I need to know NOW if I want this place to look like what I envision. I don’t have experience composting except for dropping off a bag of scraps to the market in Brooklyn once a week. And I want an herb garden and a peach orchard desperately. But I don’t know how to test my soil to see if I need raised beds or if the climate is even capable of handling them. I want this property to be beautiful and functional but for most of my ideas, I don’t know where to start. I’m hoping this newfound online community of humble homesteaders can help me. Because whether it’s rookie eagerness or the after effects of Covid, I feel like there’s no time to waste. Along with the gratitude for escaping infection (so far), I also know things could change on a dime. And now that I’ve finally found the partner, the place, and the purpose, I don’t want to miss a single beat.