There’s an owl in my neighborhood. I can hear him hooting every evening, and I always hoot back. A couple of years ago the owl (probably not the same one I’m hearing now) did a flyover to check out the “owl” who’d responded to his hoots. He wasn’t impressed. After all, I don’t even have wings.
My hoot isn’t all that realistic either. I borrowed the one Gomer Pyle taught me in my childhood.
Even though I’m 61 3/4 I still have to buy at least one souvenir on vacation. I’m a sucker for the corny and the tawdry, and Dollywood, like every other amusement park in the world, had its share of such items.
Having said all that, I really think I scored two totally cute and cuddly souvenirs.
Meet Owlfie, my new finger puppet. I didn’t even know I needed an owl finger puppet until I saw this little guy. True, the cats think I brought him home for them, but he’s mine.
And this little girl is Owlie McGraw. She will keep my seatbelt from rubbing my neck raw. Not only is she incredibly soft, but useful, as well.
One day I might grow up, but today’s not that day.
Today has been a perfect spring day here at Doright Manor. As I sat outside with a wee glass of wine and a good book I began hearing a pair of owls calling to each other from across the neighborhood. I snapped this photo and dare you to find the owl. I call this one, “I Promise There’s an Owl in This Photo!”