Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for December 24, 2016

“Yes.” said Altwin, “And the aft drive fell here, on the Coast of Grimsmus Pass. It’s there, just out a few hundred yards from shore, and too dangerous to recover and destroy. It is still responding to the collective unconscious and influencing the pattern of events locally, conforming them to the pull of cultural, emotional and intellectual constants.”

“But that’s impossible!”, exclaimed the younger regular, “That would mean…”

He was interrupted by a flash of light, bright beyond brightness, made of pure dark. It was followed by a boom of sound, loud beyond loud, made of pure silence. Momentarily stunned and frozen immobile, he stood mute, staring at nothing. Where the ship had stood was a calm, empty sea without a stick or a ripple to mark its passage. The only evidence it had been there was the horrible feeling of cold emptiness that lingered from its disappearance.

“Right,” said Second Altwin, finishing the thought, “G.L.AD. tidings of COM.F.O.R.T. and J.O.I.. The dreadful legend of Sannico loss is real beyond imagining.”

After a moment that lasted forever, the younger regular muttered, “I’ve got to start spending more time at the library.”

Capers, yeah, that’s what they are.

Capers.

Isn’t necessarily so much a matter of when to kill, but rather Hoo..

I’d rather have the bag of owl pellets.

(They often contain rodent skulls.)

That doesn’t sound like any fun at all.

Slinky Slinky a fun toy for every girl and boy…

OoooWoooLooo

In vino, veritas!

Salute!

(Does kinda look suspiciously like an old Cokey-Okla* ad, though….)

*Name changed to protect [whomever].

One of my closest friends is a Choctaw Indian named Ben. He’s 96 now, and we don’t get out much together any longer, but back in the day we rode every dim jeep trail in the mountains of Southeast Oklahoma and Southwest Arkansas looking for critter signs. I thought I’d seen and tried to identify every kind of scat from every kind of critter in those woods. I’ve heard* a lot of owls, and even called up a few, but I’ve never ever seen any of their pellets.

Thanks Teresa. Thanks a lot.

* http://ow.ly/EZOn307qsKK

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pellet_(ornithology)

Nothing like undigested mouse bits to break the ice at parties!

WAIT!!! Is that blood? Where I grew up it wan’t unusual to find owl pellets on the forest floor. Compact little bundles, they were.

Back in the day when I was managing a cemetery, the owls that lived there were numerous and loved to nest in the Italian Cypress trees that lined the grounds. Once a year or so the kids and professor from the local college biology class would come out and collect the many owl pellets at the base of the Cyprees for dissection. I can’t say whether or not they imbibed cocktails while dissecting ( Night Owl- http://www.kindredcocktails.com/cocktail/night-owl ) but I never saw the professor in red lipstick and ear dangles. I think he kept his professional and private affairs separate.

This one is for you Dogsniff……Night Owl2-oz.-Cognac, Pierre Ferrand Ambre…..1⁄2-oz.-Sweet vermouth, Carpano Punt e Mes…..

1⁄2-oz.-Sherry, Lustau East India Solera…..

1⁄4-oz.-Batavia Arrack, Van Oosten……-Instructions-Stir, strain, drink up. Owl pellets not included.

Made my Christmas.

Just so someone specifically says it, owl pellets are the balled up fur and bones regurgitated by the owl, not excreted from the other end of its alimentary canal. I too have collected and dissected the pellets in my 40+ years as a birder.

Don we now our gay apparel!

Oh, oh. Did you hear the owl call your name?

He looks so very happy.