me in the piazza

I'm a writer, publishing both as SJ Rozan and, with Carlos Dews, as Sam Cabot. (I'm Sam, he's Cabot.) Here you can find links to my almost-daily blog posts, including the Saturday haiku I've been doing for years. BUT the blog itself has moved to my website. If you go on over there you can subscribe and you'll never miss a post. (Miss a post! A scary thought!) Also, I'll be teaching a writing workshop in Italy this summer -- come join us!
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Pre-rant duck report

Okay, you guys, I'm working up to a couple of rants here but I'm so tired from traveling that I can't do them yet. So I'm giving you the duck report instead.

Last year we had a pair of Gadwalls nesting in the tall grass by the bike path, down here on my slice of the river. That is, she nested; he swam back and forth and quacked a lot. Well, he's been doing that lately, when I get there in the mornings, and then she flies back into the water from one or another set of bushes and overgrowth at the edge of the lawns. Obviously she's checking out nesting sites. Which must mean she's already pregnant. It's early for Gadwalls. But it's not early for mallards, and this pair had a lone male mallard they used to hang around with. I caught him trying to mate with the female at least once. So did the male, catch him, I mean, but it didn't seem to matter because the female was sweet on him.

So the soap-opera question down here by the river has become: just whose eggs is this Gadwall about to lay?

We may never know. She'll need to find a good spot, and then successfully hatch and raise a brood without the interference of dogs, raccoons, cats, and rats. But if she can, their markings will reveal to the world their true paternity. Mongrel ducks? Stay tuned!

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