When you're a 40 something single mother of a teen with lots of ambition, you find yourself in all kinds of interesting adventures and situations. Come back to laugh at us any time you feel the need, heaven knows where we'll be doing what next. Here you can expect a few words, a lot of images and hopefully ideas on what you can do for your next adventure.

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Sunday, March 28, 2010

Dale's demise

Today was chilly and very windy, but with the impending rain on the doorstep I couldn't resist the chance to get out and enjoy the fact that there was sunshine. The boys woke up around 6:30 and made sure that I knew it. After slopping out bowls of cereal (they opted for that instead of eggs, go figure) I started in on housework. By noontime I had the house clean, the laundry down to one load drying and even watered my neglected houseplants.

While we were waiting for Bubster to get picked up, I meandered out back to where I thought the Cooper's hawk was having his dinner and was horrifically mistaken.... those feathers were easily identifiable:

Evidently, Dale had become lunch - no wonder we hadn't seen him the rest of this week. This made me feel terrible, was there anything I could have done? Of course not - I have two huge cats, a pair of foxes and an occasional coyote that prowl my backyard and there's no way I can keep everything that lives in my yard safe. Still, I feel really bad - such a handsome creature with his life erased. Such is life, and how cruel it can be.

My other backyard creatures tried to cheer me up....

It's not your fault.... it's a rough life out here, you can't keep all the bad guys away

That's what he gets for being such a noisy show-off, out here screaming and fluffing his feathers

I don't have a clue who you're talking about.... it was a chicken looking bird?


For humans, we can take care of ourselves and each other. I had figured out that the pheasant had probably been released with 1,599 others as part of the Maine Bird hunting program - it was a miracle that he made it through the winter anyway. Only to be killed in my backyard.

Can you tell I'm taking this a little hard?

I think I would rather remember him this way instead and just think that he moved on in a search of a hot hen.


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