Duck tale

My sister in law lives in Timonium, down Baltimore way, and in a nearby town, there’s a house on a corner with a most beguiling feature.

From the street, the lawn of this corner house rises sharply, and at the very top, sits a fair-sized duck made of stone or ceramic. The woman of this house is handy with a sewing needle and quite creative. She dresses up her duck for holidays and such. Christmas, Easter, Valentine’s Day, etc., and always with appropriate, very cute, eye-catching costumes.

When we were visiting there once, it had rained and rained for days. Wanting to see what the woman had done to punctuate the monsoon, we drove by. There it was outfitted in a brilliant yellow slicker, and sitting cheerfully, in a little raft of its own.

Knocked us out.

This morning, my sister in law called and in the course of the conversation, mentioned that the duck today, is arrayed in a red, white, and blue shirt with a Gold Medal draped around its neck – just like a real Olympian winner.

The woman and her duck are now somewhat famous in the area, and there’s been at least one article written about them in the local newspaper.

Ah, but one morning the woman of the house awoke to find her precious duck gone! Stolen! She must have been decimated. But then a short while later she began receiving postcards from the damned duck – from Germany, France, and other countries on the continent. Eventually, her precious animal reappeared at its regular perch at the top of the lawn, none the worse for wear.

Turns out some college kids (most likely) birdnapped the duck, took it on a European tour, then put it back the same way they took it: anonymously.

Around here, it’s geese. Folks dress up a concrete goose on the porch in holiday-specific clothes. There must be a cottage industry of crafty people who make all these costumes somewhere. In February, you’ll even see a few in stovepipe hat and beard.

Concrete geese were such a fad around here for years that some garden centers had whole sections devoted to goose clothes, and all the major sewing pattern companies had patterns for clothes. Some of the ladies who made goose clothing for pin money were our best remnant customers at the fabric shop I worked in. But the fad has faded here…no more newspaper articles, no more kidnapping stories. Since Cleveland is always on the tail-end of most fads (we’ve just now gotten foam parties) it’s refreshing to hear that somewhere else is even more delayed than us!

Wouldn’t it be a little hard to drag a concrete lawn ornament around to so many foreign countries in your carry-on?

Crikey. I’m sorry I bothered to tell the story. I knew from nothing about a cottage industry of Goose Clothiers nor old avian kidnappings. Just thought it was a cute little throw away vignette.

And yes, it would indeed be very hard to drag a concrete lawn ornament around so many foreign countries.

But maybe these college kids realized they could leave the duck stateside, and the joke would still work. Geniuses that they were, they probably knew that, in the first place, the concrete duck couldn’t write. :smack:

We had a log in our neighborhood.

Yeah, a log.

A big old length of wood that turned up at the end like a head. Got dressed up every month and on holidays.

Nitpick: I bet you mean “devastated.” “Decimate” = to take a tenth from.

So far, a trifle of monumental silliness, yet I cannot maintain a stoney face…

Tsk, tsk, you shouldn’t toot your own coot like that – you might stoke international resentment in the international concrete waterfowl figurine community…

Clearly a case of fowl play.

Well, seeing as how there was no lasting harm done, other than a few feathers getting ruffled… This case is strictly for the birds.

In other words, a hacker job on a quack job.

:smiley: [d&r]