Mother Goose is back

Hi everyone,

Sunday evening daughter Robin, son-in-law Tim and grandson Kris came over. I grilled burgers on the grill, which were nowhere near as good as the ones Tim does, but they were tolerable.

While I was in the yard I glanced down the steps to the landing by the water and noticed a rather pronounced accumulation of goose poop. I walked down the steps and discovered that we have a nesting goose on the rocks beside the landing. I don’t know who was more startled, Mother Goose or me, but she wasted no time letting me know how she felt.

“Geez!” she hissed. “You scared the crap out of me!”
“I can see that,” I said. “All over my landing. But I’m sorry I frightened you.”
“Then run along, sonny,” she honked. “Can’t a girl have a little privacy around here?:
“Of course,” I said. “I can see you are in a motherly way.”
“Motherly way?” she snapped. “I’m way past that, you dolt. I’m on my eggs!”
“Well I can’t exactly see under you,” I responded, my pride wounded by her sarcasm.
“You think I’d be sitting here on these rocks if I didn’t have eggs?”
“I suppose not,” I admitted. “But I have to tell you that I’m afraid you’ve picked a poor spot for your nest.”
She began to weave her long neck like a cobra. “Poor place?” she hissed. “What, may I ask, does a dummy like you know about it?”
Now I was getting peeved. Rocks or no rocks, she was on my property and I thought I deserved a little respect. “Because,” I said with a haughty air. “Some poor cluck tried it there on the very same spot two years ago. We had a heavy rain, the lake rose three inches, and the eggs were drowned. That’s what I know!”
She lowered her head and looked out over the water for a minute before responding. “I remember that,” she said with a sigh.
“You remember that but still you’re back?” I was astonished. “Why?”
“Why?” she sighed. “Because the idiot I’m mated to likes me here where he can keep an eye on me while he’s across the lake hanging with the swans, pretending he’s a big gander on a stick.”
Well that took me back a bit. “I can see you’re busy, Mother,” I said. “Sorry to bother you.”
“My problem,” she said, a bit more gently. “Just don’t try to be part of it. Go away. Leave me alone.”
As I walked back up the steps I was sure I remembered her. She was pretty cranky the last time too. Come to think of it, this is the third year she has nested down there. Last year she wound up with two goslings for her trouble. I hope she has even better luck this year. That’s what we need around here: more goose grunt on my steps.

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12 comments on “Mother Goose is back

  1. Grunt

    It coats the stone,
    it paints the air,
    I wish, I wish
    it wasn’t there.

    But if it weren’t there
    running loose,
    I wouldn’t have
    A neighbor goose.

    xxxJane

    ©2017JaneYolen all rights (really?) reserved

    • I don’t know why she’s always cranky.
      She knows the price of hanky-panky.
      Now Papa’s free and on the loose
      And leaves the work for Mama Goose.

      • HA! Slick & smelly goosey poop –
        One false step & man goes WHOOP!
        Down he falls on his old bottom!
        Pride & dignity – does he still got ’em?
        ‘Barely,’ says he, getting up on his legs,
        ‘At least I didn’t bust those eggs!
        That honky mom would’ve had my hide.
        And that horny gander on my lake’s far side –
        What would be his loud retort?’
        Thanks for sparing me child support!

      • Cheryl Harness, what makes you so funny? You make me laugh, another reason why I love you and being in your company.

    • Thank you, Rosi. I’m glad you like it. I occasionally lapse into dialog with Mother Goose. She always seems to hold her own.

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