Photo by Daveness_98.
So here's what I found out this week about growing duck feathers: it ain't so easy!
There I was, minding my own business and growing duck down. Happy as you please. When someone did something normally irritating to me, or if they were living on the cranky side of life, I would think of my duck feathers and just let it slide by. I would think, "Oh, they must be having a bad day," or "I must be interpreting that wrong. I should ask questions for clarification." (Read my article about crazy communication problems.)
But one evening this week, after practicing and getting pretty good at this duck feather business, one of my nearest and dearest said something that sent me over the edge in one flying leap. Instead of responding with a kind and gentle, "Lord, love a duck!" and moving on with my day, I responded with a heartfelt, "I'm going to cook your goose!" (Not out loud, of course.)
When all was said and done (about three seconds), there I stood in the middle of a pile of duck feathers. My own. Plucked and scattered in one fell swoop.
What did I do next? I cried my eyes out and went to bed. Then I started all over the next morning.
How's your duck experiment going?
On the road again…
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