TURKEY VULTURES

Thinking about lunch

Grandson Dane harvested his first whitetail deer ever, a nine point buck, while hunting from a stand in my woods last evening.  He did it with his modern compound bow.  Hunters field dress their deer and leave the offal in the woods much to the delight of these birds.

They come from miles around on such occasions and will leave their wooded dinner plates completely free of any evidence of the harvest.

Years ago I stumbled on a deer carcase in the woods where we then lived.  It evidently was wounded and escaped being located by the hunter, or, it could have been the victim of being hit by a car, or, died of natural causes even.

Just days later there was absolutely no evidence of the deer's remains.  No hide, no bones, nothing!

It's not something city-folks often ponder but the carrion eaters provide a very necessary service indeed.

Dane's deer was immediately on the way to a  processor where it was butchered and packaged for many future meals.   

GERIATRIC MUSINGS--

Hello...again.

I launched this blog with that word of greeting (Hello) on January 15, 2007.  Today's humble offering is 1,375 pieces later.

But, I was getting tired.
 
That spans about 400 weeks so 1,375 pieces over that period averages about 3 1/2 stories per week.

The last piece that ran was September 13th and it rolled through production quite effortlessly. 

However, the tank was empty and, after all, I am retired.  I had no stories pending and nothing on the horizon.  In fact, it had gotten to be a struggle to find stories.

So I took a vacation...and waited for the next story or photo to come along.  That did not happen until Sunday, October 12th when I was moved to do the above 1st Frost of the Season photo.

Yes, life was as busy as usual but it was with things I had written about many times earlier.  No new slant to boost a story into production.
  
Meanwhile, some prostrate cancer showed up.  Nothing that was likely to kill me but it needed attention.  I had radium pellets installed in late July and my stamina has been in the dumpster ever since.  Not fun but certainly better than the alternative.

That's no excuse either.  It just happened to happen.

As a consequence to all of the above--and the brief, restful interlude--I think I have found my blog scheduling niche.  Rather than punishing my way to a story or more each week, I am going to cruise along and see what appears naturally.

I like to think it may be quality rather than quantity.

So, please tolerate a more casual publishing schedule.

I certainly will be grateful for your patience.



Oh.  Almost forgot to explain the top photo.  That's my driveway looking West as the rising sun, behind me, clears the East woods and splashes its autumnal palate through the trees.  The light color stripes to the far left are the limestone tracks of my driveway.  The next one to the right is *Gasp* frost.  That's me, right, being amused by the little sign I found on my lap after snoozing in the recovery room.  Photo by son Craig.


Ironically, it was me hauling Craig home from the ER just a few days ago after he tried to bulldoze a new road through some local woods with his VW bus.  The ER folks patched him up and sent him on his way.  The vehicle coroner may be in the bus's future.  It's looking a little like failed steering could have been the culprit.