The duck

A 14th anniversary may not sound very important but this one is to me, mainly because I actually remembered it.  But the thing is I remember it today but by the time it actually arrives on 23rd I will no doubt have forgotten it again.

It's my blogging anniversary I'm talking about.  It's hard to believe it's been that long and that in that time I've posted 1429 posts.  That's a pretty good average considering how infrequently I think of something to post these days.

Regardless of how seldom I post I will continue to do so as my blog is such a good diary of those years, it holds so many happy memories for me, especially of those early years when I spent hours playing with my grand-daughter, Georgia, who will be 21 this year.  We spent so many happy hours together in my kitchen, it's no surprise she still works with food and made me a very yummy chocolate log for Christmas.  Others might think what a funny gift but for both of us it held so much significance.  And then we both had the pleasure of sharing it with the rest of the family.

Below is my first post, a story about little Georgia.

Georgia stood on one leg, hips akimbo, peering at the structure before her. She tapped the toes of one foot , as her head descended almost to her chest and she leaned forward, a frown growing on her face. Her dark eyes grew even darker and her lips, pressed tightly together now, were hardly visible.

Finally she muttered, “Something is wrong here! Where has that duck gone? It was there yesterday. I put it to bed. It needs lots of sleep before our trip.”

Suddenly Georgia collapsed into a heap, tears streaming down her cheeks. “He’s gone to Brazil without me!” she wailed.

 
Georgia’s granny left her job digging for worms in the garden. “What’s up, Georgie Pie? I have the worms for your duck now. Look, they are lovely fat juicy ones! Come, come now. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Doofus has gone to Brazil without me!” Georgia repeated.

“No, no, I’m sure he hasn’t. He’s a lovely duck, he wouldn’t do that. Who would feed him worms?”

“I don’t know! But he’s gone!” sniffled Georgia.

“I’m sure he hasn’t”, replied Granny. “Let’s look carefully. Is he under the bed? No! Maybe he is in the cupboard. No! Is he sitting in a chair? No! Come on, Georgia, help me look for him. That’s a good girl!”

Finally, when nearly every object inside the big box had been moved aside, looked under and returned to it’s correct spot, Georgia yelped with delight as she spotted her golden duck nestled cosily under Love Heart Bear. With her 5 year old fingers she carefully picked up the little duck and placed him in the palm of her other hand. She stroked it gently, gave it a fairy kiss, curled her fingers around it tightly, lifted her arm and flung the duck into the air. The duck landed heavily on the other side of the garden. “Nope”, announced Georgia, “He can’t fly yet. When he can we will go to Brazil!”

 

A few of my followers go back a long way and may remember Georgia.  Here she is now with her boyfriend.  She still has that lovely shy (and just a little bit cheeky) smile.