Illegal Deer

I'm about to blog about my trip to Vieques, but first a short rant: As many of you probably know, it is rifle season here in Vermont. I am a supporter of deer hunting. Last year, Netdahe got a deer and we had a wonderful, family "thanksgiving" meal. Dahe hunted respectfully and talked about this experience in an honest and beautiful way. We cooked and ate that animal with respect and love. Many families around here stock their freezer with local, healthy meat for the year. I believe in this.

Today as I headed out for a run with Rosie she immediately spotted something in the woods directly across the road from our house. I called her off, but quickly realized that it was a deer and that it was struggling. I watched as it fell, got up and tried to run, fell again, repeat. I went back into the house and called our local constable (Paul, who is past 70 and the guy you call for anything if you live in Burke). I had to leave a message as he was likely enjoying a Thanksgiving meal somewhere. After our run, he returned my call and suggested I call the game warden, which I did, but the game warden was out responding to a complaint and ultimately arresting someone (ah, deer season!). So Paul came by and I indicated the area where I'd seen the deer and described her/his behavior). He went out after it and just came back a few minutes ago to tell me that he'd found it, it was still struggling, and that he'd taken care of it. He also said it was an illegal one. So obviously some careless hunter shot it, realized he couldn't legally take it, and abandoned it to die a long, suffering death. Now that pisses me off. That's what gives deer hunting a bad name. Thanks to Paul for taking time out of his holiday to end the creature's suffering. And fuck the bastard who didn't bother to check carefully before shooting and then cowardly abandoned his "kill".

Of Course I Can Dance, Of Course I Can Dance!

Update** The comments on this posting are much more interesting than the posting!

This is a great reminder that I am a child of the 70's. This song reminds me of a time when I was very young, maybe 2 or 3 years old. I have only a vague memory of riding in a volkswagen bus (or maybe it was just an Econoline van) through a field. I can see the tall grass whipping against the side of the van because we were riding with the side door open, which was exciting and lots of fun. I'm pretty sure Richard Schofield was driving. He was Auntie Sally's first husband, who could be very funny and charming and was always nice to me and was also an abusive asshole sometimes if you happened to be married to him; not so different from many an abusive asshole. I have no idea why we were driving through a field and not on a road. Maybe because we were outlaws! Yeah! Anyway, we ended up at some honky tonk in god-knows-what-state (was that when Sally and Richard were on the lam in Pennsylvania?) in I don't-remember-what-year. My parents and the other adults somehow convinced whoever was at the door of this honky tonk to let the little kid in (which reminds me that I think I was 3 because I remember someone saying, "she's 3. She's not going to drink.") and this Leo Sayer song was playing. I remember the way the dim lights made everything look, especially all that yellow pine; I think it was some kind of barn. I remember everyone was taller than me. I remember that I was happy because I liked this song, I knew this song and I recognized this song. I remember the grown ups were all happy and I was glad to be a part of the festivities. Times change and my mom might not like to hear that she brought her 3 year old to a honky tonk (but she would have only been 22!!! And Sally 20! Dad, on the other hand, might have been old enough to know better, but he was a late bloomer). But it was fun and I was safe, or at least protected by my grownups. And loved and included. And I f-ing LOVED dancing to this song!!!

Shea Shea, O Lait!...And Other Wacko Kids

We got to have an audience with Baby Shea this weekend.


Mini Dance Party

Pat reads to Nina.

Shea's momma is pretty cute, too.

Pump The Music Up Selecta!

My homies (aka superstars) return from a potty break on the way to Montreal.

Going to see Spearhead is always a wonderful, happy fun time. All that dancing and jumping, smiling faces and love filled music...it's inspiring and invigorating. And great to share it with beauties like Sandy, Sammi and Sam (and the security dudes).

Now What Do We Do?

Restless

Happy Birthday Dad!

Super cool.

Today is my dad's 66th birthday. I'm so happy he was born. He's a pretty wonderful guy, grandpa and father. I love you Pops!

I'm glad I spent the last 20 years with you.

Okay, it's really only a little more than 19 years, but 20 sounds more dramatic.

We were 2, now we're 4. Crazy. And wonderful.