Good For Something

  Granddad always used to tell me that I needed to make myself useful.  Each and everyday, I was to find something to do so I would be "good for something".  I think it was more of a way to keep me busy and out of the way but I searched hard to find that bit of usefulness each day.  Being the youngest of five siblings, it seemed that I was more "in the way" than "good for anything".  But, I tried.  I fed the cats.  They seemed to appreciate the extra food and soon became fat and lazy!  That lasted until Pop told me that the cats were not doing their jobs of keeping the rats and mice out of the barns.  I moved on to watering the porch plants.  Carrying that water from the kitchen to the porch was a hard job for a 4 year old but I kept at it!  At least I did until Mom told me that I was making a mess by leaving a trail of splashed water.  Next, I thought perhaps I could help gather the eggs from the hen house.  That did not last long as the hens were not appreciative of a toddler stealing their eggs.  (Chicken pecks hurt!)  I tried my hand at weeding the rows in the field but soon found that I could not tell a bean plant from a weed.  Thus ended that chore. My usefulness seemed to be a hard thing to find.  Eventually, things all fell into order and I was assigned jobs on the farm that fit my age.  The chores included picking ripe fruit, hand washing the fresh eggs and packing them in boxes for sale, arranging fruit and vegetables on the market table and feeding the chickens. (They were not so apt to peck when they saw corn being scattered on the ground!) I felt good about myself as I was now "good for something".

  All of these memories came flooding back this morning as I observed an item being "good for something".  Years ago, Hurricane Katrina "donated" many items to us via the flood waters.  One was a duck decoy.  Where this thing came from was beyond me but since I had it, I might as well use it.  The plastic duck was tossed into the Frog Pond and there it has resided since.  It was not my intention to coax live ducks into the little pond but use the thing as a decoration of sorts.  Today, however, I noticed that the duck being used.  The frogs in the pond have decided that the decoy was a good perching place.  Two fine frogs were sitting atop of the floating duck!  While this looked humorous, it made me think that, at least, that old duck was not a waste.  It was good for something!  A bit of satisfaction was achieved! 

Duck-hunting Day

I sat at the window looking out over the Bay early this morning while drinking my first mug of coffee.  It was a drizzly, cold morning and one in which I prefer to be inside the Little Bayou House.  With the woodburning stove chugging out a blazing fire, I felt warm and cozy.  I pondered just would make anyone want to be out in such weather but I heard-tell that there were lots of deer hunters in the woods.  Well, they can have the thrill of the hunt if it means getting soaked in this bone-chilling weather.  I took another sip of my steaming hot coffee.  Yep, it felt mighty fine right here!  I do remember as a kid having to go to the fields in such weather to pick collards and turnip greens for Pop to sell but never to sit outside and wait for a critter to wander into the area.  However, Pop did have stories to tell of his younger days and times spent duck hunting on this very Bayou.  He said that rainy, cold mornings were the best days to be out there.  Hmmm.  I beg to differ.

As matter of fact, there are a ton of ducks hanging close to the marshes this morning.  As I watched through the window, I tried to imagine Pop and Granddad sitting out there waiting for a few ducks to get into range.  Since they had no retrieving dogs, any shot ducks would have to be nabbed by the hunters themselves.  Usually, the canoe or pirogue was called into duty.  Pop or Granddad would slip into the small craft and pole out to pick up the downed ducks.  Then once back on shore, they would continue their wait.

I have the decoys that Pop and Granddad used to use during their outings.  These are not the plastic type of today but ones made of paper mache.  Two are so old and timeworn that it is impossible to identify the type duck they are supposed to represent.  The other four are definitely mallards..two drakes and two hens.  The mallards have lots of dings and dents from being used but the most prevalent injury to one came from my oldest son.  After years of being subjected to the harshest conditions of hunting, it took a two-year-old toddler to render one almost useless.  Mom used to keep the decoys on the hearth as a decoration after it became fashionable to have rustic decor.  As a toddler, my son, Mark, was quite curious of all things.  He seemed to be particularly taken with the decoys.  He would play with the realistic looking birds for hours but one day he decided that they were riding toys.  He plopped himself down right on one of the drakes and grasped ahold to the head.  Ooops! That head popped right off!  Poor duck!  Poor little boy!  The duck was now headless and that little boy was horrified!  As Mom tried to console her little grandson, I attempted to reglue the head.  Needless to say, that poor duck was never the same!  Funny thing, a few years later, my daughter, Elizabeth, did the same thing to one of the hens!  Now two of the decoys had broken necks!

I came into possession of the ducks after Mom and Pop passed away and the decoys are part of my decor.  I try to keep the decoys up a bit higher than the hearth just in case we have little visitors to the Little Bayou House.  Little hands are still reaching for those ducks!  (I am happy to say that their heads are still intact....at the moment!)

Those decoys will most likely never again be used to lure ducks into range of a gun.  Sitting in the cold and rain just doesn't seem like that much fun!  The decoys and I will sit right here and enjoy our warm "nest" while we look out over the Bayou.