1. So, do you want to hear my big news from the cabin this weekend? Here it is. Curt and I were leaving for a walk and we saw an Eastern Towhee in a pine tree near the detached garage. That isn't my picture above, but that is what we saw. Very exciting for me. For you? Maybe not so much.
Lately, I imagine it is a little challenging to have a reasonable conversation with me outdoors. I'm forever distracted by each movement in the trees and my head flops from side to side just to catch sight of whatever little critter is making the branches move. Our poor neighbor Dino and the story he was in the middle of were victims of a Baltimore Oriole on Saturday. My undivided attention to Curt fell victim several times to two Chipping Sparrows and lots of Tree Swallows. Curt is even getting in to the act and interrupted me to point out a male Bluebird this weekend.
No matter how often I see these birds or other wildlife, I never get tired of them and am continually amazed to have the opportunity to view them. I have seen thousands of deer in my life and still slow down to observe each of them as I pass in my car and think to myself how incredible it is that something so big and elegant lives wild all around us. Curt is pretty much the same way. We're both pretty fascinated by virtually every wild animal we see and rarely fail to point them out and call them by name. "Black squirrel!" "Wild Turkey!" "Coyote!" "Woodpecker!"
This little identification game doesn't stop at living animals either. Oh no. If it isn't flattened beyond recognition, one or the other of us will typically call out the roadkill by name and, being the softies that we are, will feel a little sad. Depending on the weekend, a trip up to the cabin can feel like a long funeral. So, anyway, to all my furry and feathered friends, I appreciate you, enjoy your squeaks, squeals and songs and advise you all to look both ways before crossing the street. Enough on that topic.
2. Really unrelated to the first topic is my recent awareness of a new country singing sensation who calls herself Lady Antebellum. Huh. Does this sort of piss anyone else off? I'm guessing she's not referring to the time before the Gulf War is she? No. She is pandering to the redneck, confederate flag waving, racist Bubbas and trying to cash in on that lingering sentiment in the deep south that things were somehow better before the Civil War- like when you could OWN SLAVES!! What the hell is that about? Her stage name should be offensive enough for clearly ripping off Lady Gaga, but becomes truly revolting for carrying on the mindset that things were better when black folks "knew their place." Yuck. The puzzling thing is that I have yet to see her perform in a plantation style hoop skirt, although that would probably cover up her tattoo that reads "Bring me my grits, Prissy." I'm just speculating on the tattoo, but nothing would surprise me from this moron.