Owlet Outlet!
Since I was out of town for a couple days, and then sick in bed upon my return for another day, I was concerned that the owlets might have flown the nest in my absence.
Whose scat is dat?
Come, take a closer look. I d a r e you!
Guess Who?
Two little Who Dats, dat’s who!
Who dat say who dat when I say who dat? Part 1
It’s a Sunday morning, a very still, quiet morning–the morning after the New Orleans Saints won a playoff victory while tens of thousands of Who Dat Nationals chanted and cheer them on. They must have chanted well into the night, as indicated by the absence of Who Datters posting on the ever-popular social networking web site, Facebook.
The Painted Buntings are here!
Yesterday morning, the power went out, and I found myself out on the porch, bird watching again. Earlier that morning, I had noticed a drab olive green bird and thought it might be a painted female bunting. After validating that in my trusty Sibley Bird Guide, I went to get my camera out of the truck and noticed this little guy sitting in the back yard, not a care in the world . . .
After we "choot 'em", what do we do?
In the previous stories, you learned how they are heaved into the boat, and hopefully covered up with some kind of tarp or blanket for the ride to the landing. From there, either by truck or by boat, it’s time to go to the buying dock.