cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Behind Each Great Fortune is a Crime I got about 2 hours of sleep last night and then had a very busy day today. Oi. Also I have invented a new way of the hot dog a few minutes ago. I took a Kosher dog and put it in piece of a baguette with Bavarian mustard and sliced tomato and slices of brie cheese and its really fucking good. Bob and I went out to scout a private site to use for a shooting range this weekend. Long story shot, the place will work perfectly and the elderly woman who owns it had many excellent stories about chickens, ducks and tomatoes. Here is her broody duck story, which I will shamelessly use some day in a novel or short story. This is from memory. "I had a lot of ducks for a while there some years ago. And I kept giving them away to people, a pair at a time until after a while I only had the one pair of them left. And then something got to the drake [if you live in the country then you know this to mean a fox, dog, hawk or other unknown predator] and we just had the one. "She set herself up a nest right up by where Bobby's hunting dogs would sleep on the porch, which was real smart of her 'cause she knew that nothing was going to come over there to touch them and the dogs knew not to do anything." "She laid some eggs there in that nest, but I knew there wasn't any drake around. And I thought, 'poor old duck there with her eggs that won't hatch,' and I took some eggs from one of the chickens and put them in there instead of the duck eggs. Seven of them. "And sure enough, she set there on them and they hatched out and everything was all right. For 3 or 4 days those chicks followed her around and got up on her back and everything was all right." "And then after about 4 days we had an old water heater that was cut in half along the middle for a water trough for the pigs. And we would fill that up with fresh water every morning for them. Well we came home that afternoon and poor old duck was there in the water trough and there were all seven of those baby chickens all drowned in the water." There you are. That's your bedtime story about poor old duck and the baby chickens. Take from it what moral you will. _______________________
As I hopped from rock to rock across a moonlight creek on my way out to the first pond I thought to myself, "behind every great fortune is a crime." 9:34 p.m. - 2010-10-19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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