This spring has been a little bit different than usual.

We don’t have a big graduation event to prepare for, so we’ve been able to focus on some “nice to have” projects around the house, rather than “these have to be done on a deadline” things.

I’ve also tried to scale back on some other commitments and spend more time at home “trying” to relax.

My goal is to spend time catching up on the pile of books I’ve been stockpiling, while sitting on the porch, surrounded by pretty flowers, sipping on an adult beverage.

The flowers are in full bloom, and the porch has been cleaned and is ready, but I just can’t seem to bring the rest to fruition.

Instead of making headway on literary works, I’ve been lowering my blood pressure by watching the ducks.

I have learned a lot about these little devils in the past few weeks.

The number one lesson learned? They have to be cute and entertaining because they are such a godawful mess no one would keep them if they weren’t.

G and I have tried about six different brood box setups, and not one of them will keep them from trying to climb into their water dish, which inevitably ends with them flipping it over on themselves, getting water everywhere, and upsetting them greatly.

Upset ducks turn into a duck-nado and manage to spread gross, wet pine shavings everywhere. My laundry room may never recover.

Since they were so obviously ready for the water, we set up the pool for them in the backyard, where we quickly learned the second rule of duck: A tired duck is a good duck. After about an hour and a half of swimming, followed by another hour of preening and drying off, they will finally settle down for a nap. Which, if you’re lucky, will last maybe 20 minutes, before they’re recharged and looking for adventure.

Luckily, they don’t move very fast and tend to stay together. This conveniently allows us to be outside and work on the garden or the lawn, while semi-sort-of keeping an eye on them.

Anytime we lose track of them, we just wait for the wind to blow or make any kind of loud noise. It does not take much to startle them, at which time duck chaos begins again, and everyone within a few mile radius can probably locate them.

We have been trying to train them to come when we call them, or at least to associate our appearance with treats. Unfortunately, their little duck brains are hardwired to freak out when they see something bigger than they are, so it hasn’t been the most successful experiment.

However, if you sit quietly long enough, eventually, their curiosity wins and they will come investigate. Then, when they find that you have a handful of peas or mealy worms, they instantly become your best friends.

Watching the ducks has become a welcome alternative to doom scrolling on my phone, and it’s made me realize why we have so many duck related sayings.

“Like water off a duck’s back” is obvious, but nonetheless watching them completely submerge and then pop up almost completely dry is somehow entertaining. Especially compared to the dogs, who emerge from the water looking like a new species.

“Walks like a duck, talks like a duck.” There is definitely something unique and special about ducks. Walks like a chicken, talks like a chicken? It doesn’t carry the same sentiment.

“Getting your ducks in a row.” As far as I can tell, ducks operate on their own special, secret schedule. We have yet to get them to do anything we want them to do, even with heavy bribes, so a row is unfathomable.

One of my favorite expressions, or how I feel anytime anyone tells me it looks like I have my act together, “be like a duck, calm on top, paddling furiously underneath.”

It should not come as any shock that my ducks are seldom calm on top. Whether it’s having water battles with each other, or simply getting the zoomies and flying around the wading pool, they are never calm when they’re in the pool.

If I had a nickel for every time G tells me how right he was to suggest buying these little feathered psychos, well, I could buy a whole batch of them. Pretty much the only downside is that I now have to convince autocorrect that I really did mean to type duck.

Liz Pinkey’s column appears on Saturdays in the Times News