hmm duck bum

Probably no one will see this cuz it’s so late – but these duck shots reminded me of a post card I bought 17 years ago in Paris. I had to find it and scan it…you can see it here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/51969267@N00/448740406/

Duck ‘tock poetry, from WAY back(1908!):

`Ratty,’ said the Mole suddenly, one bright summer morning, `if you please, I want to ask you a favour.’

The Rat was sitting on the river bank, singing a little song. He had just composed it himself, so he was very taken up with it, and would not pay proper attention to Mole or anything else. Since early morning he had been swimming in the river, in company with his friends the ducks. And when the ducks stood on their heads suddenly, as ducks will, he would dive down and tickle their necks, just under where their chins would be if ducks had chins, till they were forced to come to the surface again in a hurry, spluttering and angry and shaking their feathers at him, for it is impossible to say quite ALL you feel when your head is under water. At last they implored him to go away and attend to his own affairs and leave them to mind theirs. So the Rat went away, and sat on the river bank in the sun, and made up a song about them, which he called

`DUCKS’ DITTY.’
All along the backwater,
Through the rushes tall,
Ducks are a-dabbling,
Up tails all!

Ducks’ tails, drakes’ tails,
Yellow feet a-quiver,
Yellow bills all out of sight
Busy in the river!

Slushy green undergrowth
Where the roach swim–
Here we keep our larder,
Cool and full and dim.

Everyone for what he likes!
WE like to be
Heads down, tails up,
Dabbling free!

High in the blue above
Swifts whirl and call–
WE are down a-dabbling
Up tails all!

`I don’t know that I think so VERY much of that little song, Rat,’ observed the Mole cautiously. He was no poet himself and didn’t care who knew it; and he had a candid nature.

`Nor don’t the ducks neither,’ replied the Rat cheerfully. `They say, “WHY can’t fellows be allowed to do what they like WHEN they like and AS they like, instead of other fellows sitting on banks and watching them all the time and making remarks and poetry and things about them? What NONSENSE it all is!” That’s what the ducks say.’

From “The Wind in the Willows” by Kenneth Grahame
http://www.literaturepage.com/read/windinthewillows-14.html

What the duck? Suddenly everyone’s going for a 1950s DA hairstyle? (No, children, that does *not* stand for “District Attorney”!) What will be the tail end of this tale?

The British call this “bottoms up” !
P.S. I’m no Brit,but I do like the expression!

Now this is what I call a real ducking pond.

soooo proshly cute
love it dalllling

Ducktock, oh we got ducktock,
Right here in River City!
With a capital “D”
That rhymes with “B”
And that stands for Butt,
That stands for duckbutt.

more ‘tocks!!! ackkkkkkkk

Great, now I will be singing random bits of “The Music Man” all night… this could get really embarrassing! I’m not even going to TRY explaining…