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All these ducks on the lake this morning chattering like driftwood going through a buzz saw. All the thoughts in my brain at night like the sound of a dial-up modem. I've got a canvasback decoy my grandfather carved. I've got a piece of shot set aside on my dinner plate. Listen. I've got the most hilarious message on my answering machine. It begins: Nobody's home. It ends: You quack me up.