Reflections

After I posted the pictures of the geese and ducks on
the ponds below my house, thoughts of yester-years
filtered through my mind and I started thinking about
when I was little and Daddy and Grandpa would go
duck hunting.

As I recall there was a "duck hunting season".  I'm
not just sure when that was, probably in the late fall
or winter??  I can remember Daddy practicing his
duck calls.  Seems like he had a whistle-type object
that he would hold in his hand and blow into.  By
raising or lowering the fingers as he blew different
"duck" sound could be heard.  I would try blowing
into it and would start to giggle at the silly sounding
noises it would create.  But, it must've worked
because they always brought home ducks.

The ducks would be plucked and the "down" or fine
feathers would be saved and when enough of the
soft down had been collected, Mama would make
pillows.  They were wonderful and lasted forever.
I think I only had one pillow all my growing up years.

I actually called Carol tonight and we talked about
this.  Neither one of us could recall how long it took
to have enough down to stuff a pillow.  She mentioned
that Grandpa often gave us the down from the ducks
he had shot.  We laughed as we recalled the story
Mama would tell of Carol when the ducks were brought
home.  She said Carol would lift up their wings and
go "tickle, tickle"--tickling the ducks.

Although Mama was an excellent cook when it came
to preparing "wild" meat, I never really like duck.  I
didn't like the dark meat and it was too strong for my
tastes.  Then we always had to be careful as we
chewed the meat, because sometimes we would find
a little pellet from the shot gun Daddy used in his
hunting.

I'm always amazed as I think back on my childhood
and realize how everything was put to use from
the "kill".  Nothing ever went to waste.  So different
from today's "throw away society."

Even though I didn't like duck meat I surely did love
those wonderful, soft pillows to lay my head on.