My friend Aaron stopped by the other day with this baby Cooper's Hawk in a box nest. He's a falconer and has decided to take it to the next level with a little chick. She is really quite sweet. I decided the bird was in her hawk-ward stage, with all her fluffly white adolescent feathers. Aaron said she's like a play-dough press, just pushing out feathers. She eats and grows, constantly. Everyday she changes colors, shedding her dandelion fluff and making real feathers for flying.
So, since people need to eat, just like hawks...we took the bird to the Weary Traveler, our local hangout. The joke starts like this, so, two redheads and a hawk walk into a bar....The bird just sat on her nest, on the booth...watching us eat our walleye and caeser. She was quiet as a mouse and the waitress even took a while to notice her. Everyone was really fascinated...I thought it interesting how chill people were. Imagine walking into a bar on the "other" side of town...likely we would have not been welcome. I have to love the East side. It's nights like that when I am reminded by the special-ness of this place. And the special friends I have.
So, back to the story...so, I was asking all these questions...what does the hawk eat? Aaron tells me, sparrow-- caught by the other hawk he currently has. The one bird hunts for the other. So, then what happens when the hawk has to, you know...go #2? It actually is like a little squirt. The hawk lines up it's big feet at the edge of the nest and just aims out. In nature, it would land on the tree or the ground...not in the nest, since that would be gross. But at the Weary, there is only booth...no tree. So, at some point later in the night...me and my 4 glasses of Pinot Noir were having a great time...and the hawkling started to make motions at the edge of the nest. Since Aaron was sitting across the table, he motioned for me to grab the plastic glass. Without really thinking, I just grabbed the glass and held it in place and then "squirt!" I caught it, like I was a natural hawkling poop squirt catcher. All was good and we went on drinking, the hawk went on preening and napping, and pushing out feathers.
Aaron says she'll be flying in 2 weeks. That's how it goes I guess, all the babies have to leave the nest sometime. I was happy to spend some time with her, so curious with little nibbles and drinking water off my finger...big feet and little head, hawk-wardness disappearing by the minute. Soon she'll be a majestic bird of prey, and she'll have to fend for herself for a couple hours while we catch some food at the local hangout.
This weekend, I participated in my first Triathlon, along with 1,000 other people. It was in my little hometown of 2,000 people in Minnesota. We swam in the lake I grew up in. 
My friend Aaron stopped by the other day with this baby Cooper's Hawk in a box nest. He's a falconer and has decided to take it to the next level with a little chick. She is really quite sweet. I decided the bird was in her hawk-ward stage, with all her fluffly white adolescent feathers. Aaron said she's like a play-dough press, just pushing out feathers. She eats and grows, constantly. Everyday she changes colors, shedding her dandelion fluff and making real feathers for flying.
Friday I spent the day with my friend Jenifer at a festival in Prairie du Chien...the Rendezvous. It was a fantastic day. We swam in the Wisconin river, grilled, and went to this interesting festival modeled after the fur trading days. It was very authentic and there was some good shopping. I picked up a fabulous beaver skin and a red fox tail. The aligator heads were so tempting but Jenifer talked me out of it, I mean, where would I really wear it? You all know I'm just kidding. I got some nice earrings, a ceramic frog and a beaded medallion. I will definitely check this out next year. It's so refreshing to know that these ideas still exist. A world without plastic, where fur is hip, where people still work with their hands and cook with wood fires...the women wear little leather skirts, the men throw tomahawks at trees, wearing the same...
Happy Holidays and Peace on Earth.
Jana and I spent the weekend up on the UP of Michigan with her parents. Look how nice it was there! There was an inch of ice on the lake, but we didn't let that stop us from kayaking to the tiny island in the middle. It was extreme kayaking, super fun. 
As you can see, we are always fashionable, always fabulous and drinking wine, lots of wine. Even in the middle of the woods. Her parents built this cabin about 4 years ago, it's so lovely there.
This is as close to the ocean as it gets here in the Midwest. Lake Michigan. Wavy, cold and beautiful. 
I love this sculpture. It's out in the middle of nowhere, lovely, rusty, naked and shameless... 
This is the scene in my garden today. Look how beautiful it is! The monarchs are loving the flowers... 
Here is Jackson, bathing after a snack. He is home and sleeping a ton. He seems to be doing well. He purred for a couple hours the first night, was super happy just to be home. We are on cat-care duty for a couple days as he learns to get around and ensure good healing of the wound (he wants to lick it and may not). He insisted on going up the stairs yesterday, 36 hours after surgery. He went slow and took breaks, but he did it. 
Oh Jackson! My beloved cat had a really hard day. Jack broke his leg last night after a run in with a car. I found him in the backyard with the bone exposed, bleeding and separated...it was a terrible moment but I didn't vomit like I thought I might, so that was good. We made it to the emergency clinic and got him some pain meds...he stayed there overnight. Today we consulted with the surgeons and vets. After many tears and questions and much discussion we decided the best option for Jack was to amputate his leg. The healing time will only be 10 days, vs 8-12 weeks for surgery. The surgical outcomes weren't super promising, little chance of normal function, risks of infection, arthritis later on, or limited function with fusing the joint. We decided he would go nuts in a crate for 2-3 months healing with a cast or external fixiter (crazy looking hardware)...and it's better just to get him recovering and moving around. He would be miserable to spend the summer in a crate. I would never wish this decision on anyone else. I hope we made the right one. It breaks my heart to think of him hobbling around at first, getting used to it. We just went with what would be a fast and good recovery....the vets told me two things that helped. One guy said, "Cats are three legged animals with four legs." Meaning they do great with three...and the other vet said "It will not affect his quality of life." I hope Jack feels the same way, but the funny thing is that he won't even know we had to make a choice. Also, most vets say that cats aren't attached to their limbs the way people are, like he won't be pissed that he can't get his groove on dancing the way he used to. I knew a three legged cat once, it was a stray, a big black male cat I named Galileo who lived outside at my grandparents house. He was a great cat who got around just great. I pray that Jack will adapt with ease. Tonight they will do the surgery. Let's all send him some good love and healing. 
Has anyone seen my green shoes? I loved sailing with them last year. I can't find them anywhere...that's OK though. I didn't really remember I had them until I saw this picture. Isn't that funny? That must mean I have too many shoes, but don't tell my husband I admitted that. 
