Tag: ducks

A Badling of Ducks?

Last week I posted a poem about a flock of ducks in response to my sister-in-law, Lyn, referring to them as a herd. (Complete post below) 

As it turns out there are a great many names for a group of ducks. Thanks to my friend Derrick whose wonderful blog can be found at https://derrickjknight.com I’ve discovered several new duck designations. Derrick pointed out

  
And his comment led me to google:

  
I especially like “badelynge” so I’ve changed my poem: 

                  “A Herd of Ducks”

Strutting for all the world to see, a herd of ducks came calling.

Ate our muffins, blueberry and bran, their manners so appalling. 

Nary a thanks in quacked accent as these feathered friends departed

Don’t they ken we’re a badelynge? Drake did ask, waddling as he farted. 

Here’s the original post:

My sister-in-law, Lyn, and her husband, Mike, are staying the weekend at Baron’s Creekside near Fredricksburg, Texas. Their accommodation is a quaintly furnished cabin on a quiet lake. 
This morning, Lyn posted, 

  
  

And these photos:

  
   My contribution follows:

                   “A Herd of Ducks”

Strutting for all the world to see, a herd of ducks came calling.
Ate our muffins, blueberry and bran, their manners so appalling. 
Nary a thanks in quacked accent as these feathered friends departed

Don’t they ken we’re a flock? The drake did ask, waddling as he farted. 

Herd of Ducks

My sister-in-law, Lyn, and her husband, Mike, are staying the weekend at Baron’s Creekside near Fredricksburg, Texas. Their accommodation is a quaintly furnished cabin on a quiet lake. 

This morning, Lyn posted, 
  
And these photos:

  
My contribution follows:

                   “A Herd of Ducks”

Strutting for all the world to see, a herd of ducks came calling.

Ate our muffins, blueberry and bran, their manners so appalling. 
Nary a thanks in quacked accent as these feathered friends departed
Don’t they ken we’re a flock? The drake did ask, waddling as he farted. 

Phobia

I have no phobias as far as I can tell. At one time in my life I was fearful of escalators, but only those heading down. After years of traveling through airports and department stores I overcame that fear. The time it took to circumvent the escalators cut drastically into my travel and shopping time, so I cured myself.

I do understand irrational and deep seated fear, though, and I’m sympathetic to those who suffer from phobias. Having said that, some of these are a bit hard to swallow:

Pharmacophobia is the name given to the fear of medicines.

Quackery

 

Do not go into nursing or motherhood if you suffer from this.
  
Really?
  
A weird one, granted, but those black symbols can be daunting.
  
I forgot to be afraid of this one….
  
Studly Doright has an odd fear of lakes.
  
Totally understandable. Only the shadow knows what’s in the shadows.
  
That explains why people scream and run away when I enter a room.
  
I can understand this! Ventriloquists’ dummies are pretty creepy.
  
Could I claim this one after 39 years?
 
And then there’s

 

I might develop this.

Peace, people! 

Celebrating Spring

Cute pictures of baby animals with some simple verse interspersed. My work here is done!

  

Well there you are, Spring!

Full of promise, bright sunshine,

And budding flowers.

   
 
Shhh! Learn to listen

To birds chirping, bees humming

Nature’s symphony.

   
    

Grab a front row seat

To the pageantry and joy

No ticket required.
   
   

Peace, people!

Random Thoughts

My cold has faded to a manageable annoyance, leaving me with a slightly sexy rasp instead of my normal high-pitched twang. It’s my favorite stage of the illness, and I wonder why I couldn’t have just fast-forward to the good part.

We had a doozy of a thunderstorm last night. The sky this morning is a gray blue, and the forest looks like something out of a fairy tale, all vine-y and mysterious. A migrating flock of ducks has landed on Lake Yvette, periodically hassled by a nesting pair of snowy egrets. I tried taking a picture, but only ended up startling all parties involved. (See below)

My dad would have loved sitting out on the back porch, having a cup of coffee, and of course his ever present cigarette. He’d have said, “Sis, look at this.” Or, “I just saw something run through the brush right there.” We’d speculate as to what he’d seen, maybe catching another glimpse, maybe not.

And he and I would just sit watching the woods all morning, pausing only to fetch another cup of coffee.

IMG_2666
The ducks weren’t that crazy about me snapping a picture.

Peace, People.