The art of clocking

Although tempted to leave the previous entry as a tantalizing incentive for improving one's Icelandic skills, for those of you who have not yet jumped onto the bandwagon (and there is still time!)....

(Did I mention yet that there's still time?)

(Oh well.)


Not long ago, I got a message on my blog, which, for those of you who don't read Icelandic (yet), read something like this:

I clock you! Write 5 useless facts about yourself, then clock 5 people yourself.

The Duck found herself suddenly plunged into the dark underbelly of the Icelandic blog world.

1) I own enough socks to go for an entire month without having to wash them (note: absolutely NO sock re-wearing is implied here, the Duck finds the idea repulsive and unsanitary)

2) Could not find a matching pair of socks this morning. Went with tasteful colour-coordination instead.*

3) A very unmemorable half an hour of my yesterday was spent grating carrots.

4) Duck-duck the Duck is the title of an epic poem I wrote for an English assignment in 9th grade. It begins with the memorable lines: "Meet Duck-duck./Duck-duck is going on a quest."

5) My favourite colour is not orange.

*I have since given in to the inevitability of laundry