...random thoughts, opinions and secrets on children... aging... cooking... crafts... nature...divorce...second chances...
and whatever else I deem curious...
~Copyright 2017. Hootie~

Monday, July 16, 2012

Survivor? Miracle? Name needed!

Four years ago I moved into the Burrow.  Shortly after we moved in, while looking out back, I noticed a deer that looked to have only three legs.  I snapped a picture and dubbed her Tripod.  When I mentioned seeing her to a few neighbors they told me she had been around for a few years.  In my guess-timation, Tripod should be around 5 or 6 years old.  

On a hike last week with Winston, I saw a fawn going through the woods.  Winston and I were trying to discover the source of a bird call we were hearing, so we paid the fawn little attention as we stood stock still.  Five minutes later I noticed Tripod had been standing camouflaged in the brush very close to us.  That fawn was by her now and trying to nurse!  

I wish someone had a camera trained on me right then, my smile and excitement was huge!  I immediately sent my husband a text telling him what I saw.  

I wasn't in a good spot to get a decent picture that day of Tripod and her baby, and after I got home I started to think maybe my eyes had been paying tricks on me.  Seriously, a three-legged deer having a baby?  What are the odds?

*****

Two days ago, I couldn't sleep and was up near 5:30 a.m.  As I sat in my house, reading the news and my emails looking over my backyard, I noticed we had visitors!  

I grabbed my camera and quietly went out on my back porch.




I know that in a few short months I won't be able to identify Tripod's baby from the other fawns around, but in the mean time I need a name to call this little treat...maybe Peanut.

Anyone else have a suggestion?

Sunday, July 01, 2012

Off to Ballet Summer Camp

In the wee hours of yesterday morning...we drove to Chicago to put my baby on an airplane.  She's off to ballet camp for five weeks.  

I tried very hard NOT to cry, and definitely not in front of her.  I am happy for her that we can offer her this experience.  She is almost 18 and reminds me of that fact regularly. Still, she's my girl.  





*****

On the way back home we stopped to pick up the part of our vehicle that was ripped off by the raccoon we hit just after 4 a.m.  

Yuck!  and Oooo, Gross!