That's going to leave a mark...

Just saw Children of Men. It was excellent, but what a damn heartbreaker. The last big scene was really rough, because it hit me that people really live like that, right now, with soldiers in the streets and militants killing people to further causes and buildings getting shelled almost indiscriminately. As a middle-class, somewhat-entitled white girl living in middle America, it's easy (and probably crucial to the maintenance of my mental well-being) for me to forget the depth of the violence and fucked-up-ness of the world. It was a hard film to watch, but at the same time I couldn't tear my eyes away because even when it was visceral, it was beautiful. It's a pretty brilliant film. I really want to read the book, but I think I need some time to recuperate first.



Their milkshake brings all the deer to the yard

I've had the following saved as a draft since the 5th, and I figure if I don't finish it, I'll probably forget about it, so here goes. I'm not even going to bother coming up with a segue.

This is one of the neatest things I've seen in a long time:  Deer in the Yard

An extended family of deer has befriended a couple that seem really cool (even if they are so hippie that they make me look right wing). They sound like interesting people, and the photos of the deer visits that they posted are pretty fantastic:





Initially, I was torn between wishing I could have that experience with deer and worrying that the deer they befriend will become easy targets for hunters. Then I read the More Deer in the Yard page, where they discuss similar concerns, and I decided to just accept and appreciate the wonder of it all.


I haven't had very many close encounters with the furred kind, really. Not the wild furred (or scaled or feathered) kind, anyway. There was that time when I was twelve and I went out to the backyard without my glasses and a rabbit ran across my foot and I thought it was a rat and screamed my fool head off. Or the time that I had to take a six-foot-long bull snake to the vet. Or the time the cat spotted a broadhead skink in our backyard.



Or the time I got to meet the owlet. A few years back, I did an 11-month term of AmeriCorps service at a nature preserve. One day in May, I heard some of the staff talking about some baby owls that had apparently been abandoned. It was decided that the last living owlet from the clutch of three should be taken to the vet, so I went along. He was about a foot tall, and seeing him up close was one of the most amazing experiences I've ever had. There was something prickly and cool and slightly unnerving about being so close to a wild predator, even one that could never really harm a human. Unfortunately, the little owl didn't make it. He died a few days after he was found. I did get to hold him with a falconer's glove, though. It was absolutely incredible.





So go see Children of Men, everybody. And kumbaya.