geese
This morning, geese took over my duck pond. The ducks were not pleased. Following are the thoughts that ran through my brain...let's guess if I had or had not yet imbibed of the caffeine.
- "Why are all the male ducks in the middle of the pond?"
- "Why are all the ducks craning their necks upward so much?"
- "Why are the ducks' heads black instead of green?"
- "When did the ducks get so damn big?"
- "Oh crap, those are geese!"
Obviously, I'm not too swift before the morning coffee takes hold. No idea where the geese came from, and I haven't seen geese in the pond before. I think this might just have been a rest stop, as they're no longer in the pond or any of the other ponds in the complex. Sure did piss off the ducks while they were here, though!
I have eaten goose exactly once in my life. Given where I am from, that number should be greater. See, I am from Mifflin County, Pennsylvania, (supposedly)
the only place in the United States where the medieval Michaelmas feast is still celebrated. The only time I actually ate goose on Goose Day, I think I was nine or ten and I went with my grandmother (the insane one, not the fundamentalist christian one) to the lunch counter at Murphy's five and dime store. My great-aunt worked there for a bazillion years and at the time she was working at the lunch counter so we went there and ate goose. It was as good as you would have expected lunch-counter-goose to be, and I never had it again.
