Not that this is news to anyone who knows me, but I'm a bit of a perfectionist/procrastinator. This here blog (this poor, neglected blog) is proof. I wait around for the muse, for something worthy of a post, but then a month has gone by... Sometimes pie is a good enough reason to post, but other days it all just strikes me as too mundane. Or too scandalous (or simply Not Mine to Share) for a public audience.
I'm in the midst of domestic upheaval over here. Changing around my entire apartment to make it work for me. Negotiating a romance, or not. Loving my job, but noticing that on many days it leaves me with relatively little to say, aside from the tedious gushing about how much I adore the baby.
But! Last week something magical and rare did happen.
I was hanging out with That Baby I Love So Much, and happened to glance up at the bay window just as a vaguely bird-shaped something landed on a branch about four feet away. I hopped up as slowly as one can hop, intrigued, but not wanting to scare the Thing away. And it was an OWL. A very small and very cute OWL, at four in the afternoon. And it only gets better: there was a whole family of them. Eastern Screech Owls. Mama, Papa, and four babies, and they stayed all day, and the day after that.
Taking photos in low light, without a flash, and with a baby attached to my body, always makes me wish for a better camera. But here they are~