Good-hearted Neighbor John had remembered my distress last winter when I was unable to track down any duck legs to make duck confit for my Hotty Toddy column. I abided by my grandmother’s more oblique philosophy that she who never learns how to clean fish will never have to clean fish. I got around that by merely going along for the thrill, without actually killing a living creature. The family philosophy was simple: The kill must be eaten. Nothing was as satisfying to my spirit as traipsing through the woods with my father or sitting in a boat with my grandfather. I learned about gun safety, absorbed the techniques for successful frog gigging, and became a deadeye shot while still a child. Nobody ever fussed when the adult males would sneak away from the holiday gatherings to hunt some deer or ducks or quail or doves. Like most Southerners of a certain age, I grew up in an extended family of hunters and fishers. One… If she has an experienced hunter or chef to show her how to do it. How many squeamish East Memphis girls does it take to field dress a duck? I WAS A LUCKY DUCK AND MY SITUATION WAS JUST DUCKY! One of many duck-related American expressions and idioms. Like a duck on a junebug: Attracted so strongly a person is gonna get right onto it physically or literally and ASAP.
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