Gravinold Broom, the Boy Who Was not a Duck

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Gravinold Broom was nine when he decided that it was time to become a duck. Ducks, he thought, were the best, and to be one would be the best thing for Gravinold Broom.

“How can I become a duck?” He asked his teacher.
“You cannot become a duck,” they replied.
“I will ask others!” Said Gravinold, and he did.
“How can I become a duck?” He asked his mother and father individually.
“You cannot become a duck,” they each replied.
“I will ask others!” Said Gravinold, and he did.
“How can I become a duck?” He asked his nine uncles after gathering them in in the same room.
“You cannot become a duck,” they all replied in unison.
“I will ask others!” Said Gravinold, and he did.
“How can I become a duck?” He asked the Tzar.
“You cannot become a duck and you shouldn’t be asking me anyway,” said the Tzar.
“I will ask others!” Said Gravinold, and he did.
“How can I become a duck?” He asked a duck.
It said nothing and walked away.
This convinced Gravinold that he would not become a duck and would instead be sad forever.
And he was.

Silent Pudding

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Today, I decided that I could fix Christmas music by making it more about figgy pudding. I was almost certainly wrong about that, but I’m going to try it anyway.

 

Silent pudding, holy pudding!

All is figgy, all is else is also figgy.

Round yon Fig, Mother Pudding and Child Pudding.

Holy Pudding so tender and figgy,

Sleep in figgy peace,

Sleep in figgy peace

Silent pudding, holy pudding!

Shepherds quake at the figginess.

Puddings stream from heaven afar

Heavenly figs sing Alleluia,

Figgy Pudding the Savior is born!

Figgy Pudding the Savior is born

Silent pudding, holy pudding!

pudding of Fig love’s pure light.

Radiant puddings from Thy holy fig

With dawn of puddingous grace,

Pudding, Fig at Thy birth

Pudding, Fig at Thy birth