This morning while I was walking Storm, we came across a sparrow and a cardinal fighting over a moth that they’d already ripped the wings off. The moth was still alive and making a kind of desperate clicking noise with it’s legs. The birds were so focused on trying to get the moth from each other that the sparrow almost ran into Storm’s mouth. Were Storm a slightly bigger dog he would have been able to pull me harder and get that sparrow. Alas, he’s under thirty pounds and couldn’t move me. The birds came to their senses at the last moment and flew away abandoning the moth. I thought the following things about the whole scenario:
- What kind of nightmare hell was happening for that poor moth?
- Are moths so tasty that they’re worth that kind of dangerous competition?
- Who had the moth first?
- Why couldn’t that cardinal easily take the sparrow? He was the bigger bird.
Nature is mysterious.
This is his sad face because he didn’t get to kill a bird.
Here’s peppy moment of zen watching the waves.
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My latest review for Game Industry News can be found here.
Here’s a quiet moment from North Carolina Museum of Art.
Wednesday morning I decided to make kolaches. These breakfast buns are apparently a big deal in other parts of the country, but I had never had one until I ate one at Rare Bird Coffee Roasters. My nephew attempted to make them last year, but they turned out a little dry. I think because of the choice of filling. I decided to give it a shot using this recipe and it worked out really well. I did use canned jalepeños because I didn’t have fresh laying around. My nephew used ham and that didn’t work as well. He also didn’t have the stand mixer that my sister Joan gave me a few months ago and that made putting the dough together really easy. So here they are in all their delicious glory.
My youngest dog is a four-year-old, male basenji, Storm. We have two other dogs, females, a miniature pinscher, Hetty, seven, and a border terrier, Cory, thirteen. They all take a mile long walk in the morning. Then we come back to the house and they have their breakfast and then we take Storm for a two and a half mile walk on his own because he needs more exercise than the girls do. He particularly likes this walk because he seems to prefer the idea of being an only dog, even though he’s never been one.
Last Sunday, my husband and I had three of our friends over for brunch. After we ate, we sat around the table for a long time talking, which is a sign of both a successful brunch and interesting friends. Storm, however, felt like our friends overstayed their welcome. Half way through the meal he began to yawn and sigh in the kitchen. Then he started throwing himself against the back door and letting out soft moans of despair as he collapsed in a heap. Apparently, if you don’t have your second walk before noon, your legs are in danger of atrophying and falling off. You didn’t know that? Neither did I. Storm knew. This is apparently the sort of thing that keeps him awake at night. All along I thought that what kept him awake at night was the bunnies frolicking in the yard which he can see from the window behind our bed due to the streetlight on the other side of the road. Bunnies. Who knows what they’re up to? Suspicious.
Can you feel the ennui?