November 26, 2007:
Hooray the owl!
Last night, Ron rescued a Barred Owl that flew into the side of the car on his way home. The emergency vet in Topeka gave us a number for a wild bird rescue guy, and he talked Ron through bundling it up in a coat that was in the car so we could drive it to Topeka. Somehow between picking it up and getting it back to the school to transfer it to a box (so it wouldn’t revive and freak out on the 40+ minute drive to the bird guy), the thing burrowed into the sleeve of the parka so that it was completely jammed in like a quilted owl burrito.
But somehow, the bird guy (Marty) reached into the sleeve and popped him right out like a pro, and the bird, which had been pretty much knocked out and busted-looking, stuck in the middle of the road and ready to get hit, flapped his wings and looked around, groggy, but seemingly sound. The guy thanked us, and we went home, relieved and hopeful.
And we already heard back from Stone Nature Center that he was strong and alert and flying well, so they set him free today. Yay! I guess he had just konked himself out and needed a little time to rest up, but he’d be roadkill for sure if Ron hadn’t stopped, because there were several minutes of cars driving around Ron’s little roadblock before the thing even got up, and after that, he still wouldn’t budge out of the road, even with serious persuasion of honking and flashing lights. So that’s a nice, happy ending! I wish whoever hit Skinny had been kind enough to stop and give him some help, and I’m really glad Ron is That Guy. I’d've tried to help a pet, but I don’t know that I would have done the same thing with a wild animal–I’d probably have just stopped, thought the downed owl was dead, and been bummed, but left it at that. And then the next car by would have finished him off. So yay Ron! One more owl on the prowl to keep the mouse population at bay.
Sugarfoot has suddenly become obsessed with mousing. I don’t know that she’s actually killing any of them, but she’s at least scaring them off, because I haven’t found any droppings since she started staking out the kitchen. The adorable little field mice always find their way inside in the winter, and you feel shitty about killing them (when you actually can–they’re adept at snatching the bait without setting off the traps) because they’re so cute and cartoony compared to regular mice. She’s either scaring them away, or talking them into offing themselves under the stage. We’ve found 4 dead mice back there, and I there’s no poison or anything, so it’s a mystery. Ron and Kevin decided it was a mouse suicide cult, and I guess that sounds as good as anything else.
On Saturday, Kevin & Marilyn came over for leftover Thanksgiving turkey (my dad fried FOUR, so I brought a whole one home with me on the plane from Houston), and we drank cocoa and decorated the Christmas tree. The tree came from Converse Farm again, but this time I went along to make sure Ron didn’t pick an absurdly gigantic one. Last year, he and Gord came back with a tree so tall we had to cut almost 3 feet off the bottom to get it to fit in the hall (despite the 10-foot ceiling).
This year, we pledged to keep at least 25% of our holiday spending in the county, but I think we’ll be able to make it closer to 75% if we go with a lot of food gifts. There’s Eskridge bison and Alma cheese and Paxico sausage, just for starters. Today we ordered some special stuff from Jepson. I’m psyched about buying local, plus it gives me a motivation to go visit all the nearby towns I still haven’t gotten around to invoostigating. And next year, we’re going to join the Kansas Explorer’s Club and take a bunch of Kansas day trips, with the object of doing something in every county in the state. We were thinking maybe pie in every county? Or maybe more general: dessert? I’ve already had dessert in several counties. Suzanne and I share roadside fever, so we always take tourist outings when she visits, but I think for the Explorer’s Club, we should probably start from scratch and get a county map and everything.
I’m such an old lady.
