in which witness is borne: birds, politics, fiction and critical art theory

Thanksgiving Kestrel

Friday, November 25, 2005
Driving up to Morton Grove to visit uncle L, we were nearly sideswiped by an AMERICAN KESTREL as we exited the highway. I observed that it was a chilly day to be a raptor--most of its potential meals might be underground or sheltered someplace cozy.
Being sheltered someplace cozy is basically all I desire right now, and can't take for granted any longer now that winter is upon us in the frozen north. The cold and unrelenting gray have descended, along with a nasty upper respiratory infection, and both kitties are finally on the upswing from their respective illnesses. Stella and I found ourselves locked in a battle of wills when i tried to force open her jaws to take a pill--she finally opened her mouth on her own to take it, poor sweetie! As if she wanted to tell me, I'm your friend, all you need to do is ask!
I am considering doing a winter story series in this space. Self-publishing is so dang easy and it's tempting to use my blog as a testing ground for my fiction during times when birding slows. What do you, dear readers, think?
7:24 AM :: ::
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