Purim @ Mirty's Place

Quack!

The other night, I curled up with a hot cup of cocoa, the dogs tucked under my feet, and found myself thinking about ducks.

Not the kind that you eat, although those can be really tasty, especially when you get the cooking time right (a feat I finally accomplished after much experimenting and struggling with temperatures in my new oven and cookware.

No, I mean the live kind of duck, with feathers, and webbed feet. When I was a girl growing up, there were three kinds of ducks. There were "our” mallard ducks, that came to visit us like clockwork every spring to the pond in the park, only to depart again every fall with the first sign of frost. There were the tall ones that lived across town, whom my parents called the Rosens, even though their names were really the Abramowitzes. And then there were my grandparents.

See the entire Purim pardoy of Mirty's blog at: mirtypurim.blogspot.com