Item 1 - Owl Puke
Max recently showed Minette a book on owl puke. Max's favorite animal is the owl, whereas Luke seems to favor the penguin. Although it's difficult to assess their favorites, because both boys have now taken to giving Wendy and me each a penguin in the morning when they come into our bedroom.
Max climbs into bed, taps me on the shoulder whether or not I'm awake, and says, "Daddy, here's your stuffed aminal." I then take the stuffed animal, which is a penguin wearing a Santa hat, and pretend to enjoy sleeping next to it.
Luke, who started the ritual, varies in his delivery method. Sometimes he simply lays the animal (a non-Santa penguin) next to me, sometimes he wakes me up and hands it to me, and every now and then he throws it at my face. Top o' the mornin' to ya!
But I was talking about owls. When Minette saw this Owl Puke book of Max's, she decided an adventure was in order. She and Andy went down to Lincoln Park and foraged for owl pellets under the trees where she'd seen owls. She then brought these owl pellets over to our house, and invited all of us to participate.
Please humor me if you already know what an owl pellet is, but I just learned myself. When an owl eats something like a rodent, the food remains in the gullet for a time while the owl's innards extract the meat that it can process. Once that process (pronounced PRO-sess in Canada) is complete, the owl then throws up the equivalent of a hairball. A biologist or naturalist then scoops up the pellet and finds someone else's home to unwrap everything. That's because owl pellets smell worse than owl feces.
The boys were fascinated by the unveiling of bones and skulls. See Minette's Flickr page for details. (If you're reading this some time after February 21, the first photo in the series is here.)
Item 2 - This Goes to 11 Again
Vanity Fair has a great interview with the keys members of Spinal Tap. Here's my favorite part:
Tufnel: Their breakup has been great for us, because I’ve seen him a bit more. My interests have changed. I’ve been breeding miniature horses. The very small ones, even smaller than the Mongolian horses, it turns out. And trying to find a business venture where I would race them. But I’m trying to find jockeys that are basically 26, 28 inches tall—and that’s been a problem, actually.
How about the dwarves from the “Stonehenge” setup?
Tufnel: They’re way too big.… I don’t know the answer, but I was captivated by these little horses, they’re so sweet. They don’t run terribly fast … but from an environmental standpoint it’s great, because they’re using less of everything.
Derek Smalls: Well, it’s less horseshit.
Tufnel: Less horseshit. Less grass in the infield … Less dirt. Saddles are smaller—less leather. Less money, it turns out, because no one actually wants to see it. Less interest. It’s a less is more.
I make an end.