Three Hawk Aerial Combat

Dropped the kids off at their mom’s tonight. Was sitting with her and our daughter in my Toyota Sienna, doing the usual co-parent scheduling, windows open, because it didn’t feel like Houston in June.

And the hawks started screeching.

I stuck my head out the window and looked up to see three hawks wheeling, cursing each other. Down came something fresh, like two golf balls spinning on an axis, a bloody mess of feathers and meat.

Glad it hit the grass and not the pavement. . .

And then this hungry beauty was there, closing one claw around the kill, balancing awkwardly on her other foot. I say “her,” but I don’t actually know.

She spread her wings almost immediately to shield the kill (or steal?) from prying eyes.

“Nothing to see here folks.”

I took a picture anyways, my 11-year-old passing me a phone as quick as you can say “raptor.”

“Dad!”

Hawk

And then it was gone, friends in hot pursuit.

It’s not the first time something like this has happened. About a year ago another bird dropped a one pound mullet (fish) in my lap. The mullet was still alive after falling a hundred feet or more, but the seagulls weren’t as gutsy as this hawk, or maybe they figured we’d cook it up ourselves.

Instead, we put the it back in the water. . . It didn’t float, but it didn’t exactly swim either. Oh well.

It’s a beautiful—and sometimes weird—world we live in.

 

Three Hawk Aerial Combat

Don’t Do Drugs, Kids.

Evidently I’ve been pushing myself too hard these last few weeks.  A few late nights ago I was trying to put down lines of dialogue (argument) between two characters in an upcoming Paladin’s Thief book.

I could feel myself slipping, my brain lying to me that I could close my eyes and type this last brilliant line without looking at anything. Or it might have been the medication talking. The Doc put me on antibiotics, heavy duty cough syrup, and some kind of prescription steroid meant to knock down the strep throat, the feverish sleep, and the general sense of temporal inadequacy.

“One more line? Of course I can do that. . .” I thought sluggishly.  “No need to lose this last important thought over a few droopy eyelids.”

The morning after my first thought was to get off the drugs. Nobody wants to read this crap:

“@hq5 ir 5hq5 loyql5y 3s53ne3e 5o 3veryone in this big world?”

With a  few minutes of soul-searching, I realized this is the exact phrase you get when you misplace your left hand exactly one row too high on the keyboard and type the following phrase.

“What if that loyalty extended to everyone in this big world?”

Moral of the story. Don’t do drugs, kids. Or maybe just quit while you’re ahead. Bonus points if you can guess whose line this will be, assuming it doesn’t get cut.

 

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Drugs Collage 2

He-Man Calvin / Tiger-by-the-Tail Calvin

Don’t Do Drugs, Kids.