Nesting

Behold a pair of eider ducks, possibly in the process of settling into a new home.  These were encountered just outside Reykjavik back in June.

The female eider lines her nest with the down from her own breast, and this is collected for use in pillows or whatever.  The farmers do not, I am told, somehow trap the ducks and tear the down from their living breasts— the down is harvested after the chicks leave the nest.

If your living depends on the eider duck, you don’t want to mistreat her, because she won’t come back to nest on your property the following year.  If you get a whole colony of them going, you want to treat them well.

It’s now three weeks since surgery, and I remain pretty much in the nest.  I’m walking with a cane and taking about twelve times the daily steps I did with the walker, which is good.  Most days Kathy takes me to the park for a walk.  I am improving day to day.

I only experience real pain at night, and the meds take care of that.  Tylenol is all I need the rest of the time.

Kathy is amazed that I’m not more stir-crazy than I am, but then even if I get out into the world, there’s not much I can do.  You can take me to the mountains, but I can’t walk on the trails.  You can take me to the pool, but I can’t get in water.  You can take me to the strip mall, but there’s nothing I want to buy.

It’s dull, but then I’ve otherwise had a quite exciting year, and the year will get exciting again ere long.

In the meantime I’m imitating the eider duck, and trying to stay warm.