Last week saw the deaths of Malcolm-Jamal Warner, Ozzy Osbourne, and Hulk Hogan. I was not particularly a fan of any of those people, but I can’t deny the huge presence that they had in popular culture for all of us who grew up in the Eighties.
I couldn’t help thinking that the next blow to my Eighties childhood would be that Chuck E. Cheese himself would die.
And maybe I was a little bit prescient.
Chuck E. Cheese didn’t die.
But he was arrested for credit card fraud.
From March . . .
. . . we have an American Coot, which looks kind of sinister up close . . .
. . . an American Robin on the rocks . . .
. . . and, after the American Coot and the America Robin, one might be expecting an American Crow, but this is actually a Fish Crow, as indicated by its distinctive “ah-ah” call.
I have long thought that whoever came up with those bags of peeled, cut baby carrots was a genius—he basically turned carrots into potato chips.
Most of the carrots look pretty much the same, but recently I found one that looks like something from the Burgess Shale. (That’s probably because of the weird strands at one end that resemble antennae, or mouthparts, or something.)
Here is another picture of a Red-shouldered Hawk, a species which I attempted to photograph a few years ago.
The year is almost over, and I feel as if I should write some final post. But I feel too exhausted to say anything worthwhile. This time of year always makes me feel exhausted. Of course, I feel exhausted all year long, but even more exhausted now, maybe due to the lack if light.
It makes me wish that we could all go into hibernation for the winter. I know that I have blogged about that before, but I am too exhausted to track down the post to link to it.
