Sing with Meg

We're so happy that Meg has an appreciation for music. Unfortunately, she prefers music sung live by family members. Whether we're in the car, at home or in some public place, she requests her favorite songs until we give in and sing them. Here is her play list:

• BaBa - Baa Baa Black Sheep
• Foof - Book of Mormon Stories
• Duck - 5 Little Ducks
• Pa - Popcorn Popping
• Pie - Itsy Bitsy Spider
• Row - Row your boat

I spent one of my days off this week squatting ankle deep in icewater, hidden in the weeds during a heavy snowstorm. My expert hunter friend (Jon Hill) assured me that this was the ideal weather to hunt ducks. He turned out to be right. We had lots to shoot at and we each bagged ducks.

The hardest part wasn't the cold or snow, it was getting out to the place Jon calls "Secret Spot". There's a reason it's secret. To get there we had to ride our bikes in the predawn snow and mud, pulling a huge bike trailer loaded with decoys, shotguns, waders and assorted gear for about an hour. Brutal. Now I have an idea what it's like to drive one of those third-world rickshaws, but they probably don't have to deal with snow.

I'm a big believer that if you cut something into small enough pieces and deep fry it with enough salt and spices, anything can taste good. I admit that ducks taste nasty, but I feel obligated to eat whatever I shoot, so I did the duck stir fry. The funny thing is Rachelle can get chicken blood all over the kitchen and think nothing of it, but if I get so much as a drop of watery wild-bird blood anywhere, the kitchen must be completely disinfected. Anyway, the stir fry wasn't as good as chicken (not even close), but it was palatable enough that even a picky eater like Brita ate it without complaint.