Natural Born Killer

AT left, bloodstains. From wikicommons courtesy V. H. Hammer who has made the image available under the creative commons license.

Lovely snap. The definition at the edge of the drag marks should tell you something - also the depth of the marks on ice-hard snow.

So, dinner out.

Into town to one of our favorite locals spots. Nice meal. Then back through our village for ice cream - which is Pure Michigan (state advertising campaign). Michigan is standing outside shivering in your heaviest sweater waiting to order ice cream at a walk-up Dairy Queen.

Yep. Spring. Mind the flurries.

Snow is out of the meadow and Louis the foxhound is enjoying himself. Deer are trying to eat the colored bulb covers on Christmas lights still in my tree. Have to take those down now that the snow drifts are gone.

Daffodils are poking up about an inch this evening. Blooms in two weeks.

Then, there's the tough part.

I live in the country. I have meadows on rolling hills and all the wildlife you could imagine. Deer, turkey, possum, 'coons, hawks, falcons, geese, wet ducks and wood ducks, ground hogs and this year an especially destructive gopher/mole. Not sure which, yet.

Oh, Millie the skunk lives in the brush pile on the fenceline. Stay away from there.

Tonight, the buzzard have returned. I don't know about Hinkley, Ohio; but, they're definitely here.

Usually, they dry their feathers in the morning on my roof and give the place a Stephen King sort of air. I don't mind a bit, usually.

However, this evening, one of them brought his work home. Looks like it rolled off the roof-line onto my deck where it was then mostly consumed and the resident buzzard flew away. I bet the cats loved that!

Blood. Some stray parts. Feathers from whatever it was and some stray buzzard feathers for good measure. I got to hear about it. hey,

"What are you writing now, anyway?"
"Short story."
"What about?"
"It's called The Swimming Lesson."
"Nice." She pauses. "It isn't about swimming, is it?"
"No. Kid learns to kill by drowning his buddies in a farm pond. Convinces them to drown themselves, actually. It's a re-write."
"Don't you have any happy stories?"
"Kid gets away with it."

Looks like I'll be scrubbing the deck on Saturday. Looks a little like I butchered something against its will out there right now.

Hmmm.

I better write that down.

Surely you have something to write down, too.