A Phalanx of Ducks?
Michelle Styles has first hand experience with ducks. Real ones, apparently. And her ducks, she says, do not go in rows. They move in a phalanx. This is, I believe, the sort of thing Roman ducks would do. Novelists of the Roman period would know about things like that. So would Roman ducks.
Mine, not being Roman, do not understand about phalanxes (phalanxi?) . Neither they nor I are exactly sure what a phalanx is. Or why they ought to move in one. (We like the word, though) Rows we both understand. It's sort of like "follow the leader." With ducks.
It has, I explained to the most reluctant of them this evening, to do with motivation. If you see where you ought to be going and you are motivated to get there, you will fly straight toward your destination. So will all the other ducks. You will be in a row. They understood.
Most of them have lined up now. Seven chapters worth of them are on the runway ready to fly to Richmond on Monday. By tomorrow the eighth will be ready to go. Possibly even the ninth. The tenth is still gestating. But the motivation is clear. That duck will be born with Goals. And expectations.
And he'd better get them accomplished by Tuesday if not sooner. Otherwise he'll be out looking for a new phalanx to join.
The Wedding Bells II contest is over. The winners will be notified tomorrow by email. Gunnar is excited at the possibility of all these treats. Thanks to all those who entered!
Have you checked out The Pink Heart Society? It promises to be a lot of fun. Drop in when you can.
The Chapter Ten Duck, still trying to figure out his place in the row.
posted by Anne McAllister at 10:59 PM
3 Comments:
A phalanx of ducks -- a group of ducks all moving in the same direction, but not necessarily in single file.
I love the post though!
And yes, a duck needs a goal or motivation as otherwise they are apt to lose their heads and go quackers.
Thank you, Michelle. I'm grateful for the definition without having to resort to my dictionary. Ducks around here are phalanx-challenged. Even the real ones. Wyoming cows on the other hand have got phalanxes down pat.
Going quackers is something I am very familiar with. In fact it's becoming the favored option hereabouts. Better than shaping up the last reluctant ducks. Ah well, by Tuesday it should all be in Richmond and I can either sleep or go quackers myself.
Annie,
Herding cats is a piece of cake compared to "rowing ducks." Cats do not fly. There is no third dimension to worry about. Flying chapters, er, ducks is no fun.
Thank you for the good wishes re Tuesday. I hope so, too!
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