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Blowing Snow: A Duck and Mallard Jones Drama

Ducks and Chucks,

It's me, Duck T, your humble, snow-fearing, managerial bird. Yes, that's right, we're expecting DUCKING SNOW. And you know what that means? It means weather so tall it could stifle a duck! It means ice that can stick to your sensitive flippers! It means a storm—a ducking storm! And worse of all, it means my best frenemy Mallard Jones with his out-of-control snow blower!

Here's a conversation that the two of us had about said snow-blower. We were in Star and Other Duck's apartment at the time, having afternoon tea in Riley's special peacock-print cups.

Duck: Mallard, I appreciate the offer, but ever since last December, the thought of you with a snow blower has been keeping me awake at night. I have a recurring nightmare in which you wield a small, but violent alligator by the tail as you parade around our snow-laden street, getting said reptile to swallow the snow! The alligator seems to be called Blower Old Chap, because that's what you keep calling them. Blower Old Chap has a lot of teeth. It's terrifying!

Mallard: I've never owned an alligator, old chap. But I LOVE my snow blower! It blows snow!

Duck: Here's the thing: IT ISN'T JUST ABOUT YOU, Mallard Jones!

Mallard: No need to shout, old thing! I can hear you perfectly. The storm hasn't started yet, you know!

Duck: But Mallard, you do remember last year, don't you? When you arrived in your ducking limo with your snow blower in tow, got your duck-butler to shovel a path down our street, and then walked up and down it blowing snow everywhere?

Mallard: You're welcome! It was frightfully fun.

Duck: As you strung those words together just there, I notice you hit the word "fun." For me, it's more about the "frightfully" bit.

Mallard: You know, old fruit, I like to really let loose when I'm blowing snow. I like to blow it here and blow it there. I'd blow it almost anywhere. If I can blow snow of an evening, that's exactly what I'll do.

Duck: That honestly sounds like a scene out of Boogie Nights.

Mallard: There's something about having a blower in my wing-hands that makes me want to just attack the white stuff with abandon, jetting it around. It's like bubble bath or very cold duck down!

Duck: The problem is, I tried to approach you during this process, and you almost sucked me up! Remember? I was almost dangling from the pipe like I was oven-ready! What if that had happened, huh? Also, when you snow-blow, the snow just mounts up everywhere! Star and Other Duck couldn't get out of their human apartment last year because you just blew all the snow against their door and left it there. It looked like they were living in a ski slope!

Mallard: Oh dear. Are you saying you DON'T want me to snow-blow this year?

Duck: I am.

Mallard: Alas, no!

Duck: Look, you know I generally appreciate you, yes, even though we're frenemies? You have this awesome ducking way of just ignoring the rest of the world and doing your own thing. And although that doesn't sound great now I've said it out loud, for a duck like me, who has a tendency to worry my flippers off, there's a certain liberation to it.

But the snow blower's a no, Mallard. Especially around me and my folks.

[At this point, Mallard gave a deep sigh.]

Mallard: The problem is, for some strange reason, Mallard Mansion NEVER gets any snow. Maybe it's because it's at the top of a hill.

Duck: WHAT THE. . .? But EVEREST gets snow, for duck's sake! Why wouldn't you?

Mallard: Maybe I forgot to pay my snow tax, old chap. Oh wait! Where are you going, my flipper-slappy chum?

Duck: I'm going to pack a bag, Mallard! If your duck-mansion lacks snow, then it's EXACTLY where this duck needs to be.

Ducks and chucks, if you're getting snow at the moment or soon, please stay as safe and warm as can be. And if you liked this post, please consider joining my email list to receive my personal pond letter every month.

Loves ya,

Duck T.


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