Owl be darned

After some diligent Internet research, I think I know who the culprit is behind the monkey talk. An owl. In particular, a barred owl, known for its range of vocalizations. That claim really does hold some water since I actually saw an owl in one of my trees last year. That sweet little dear even hung out long enough for me to snap some pictures. Too bad it had to turn around and scare the bejeezus out of me a mere 365 days later.

Who dat? I'm going to go ahead and guess that it's my very own barred owl.

Hear it for yourself:

Turn up your volume. Tell me, does that not sound like a primate to you?

Monkeyin' Around

Last night around 11 p.m., both Brian and I heard what can only be described as a monkey. I was already in bed trying to fall asleep and Brian was in his room tooling around with a broken pair of headphones when we heard the first spooky strains of ooh-ooh-ee-ee-ee-ahh-ahh-ahh.

I thought I'd imagined it, but when Brian said he'd heard it too (and that he wasn't joking), I got a little panicked. Because, really, why on earth would a monkey be outside of our bedroom windows...or worse *gulp*, in my basement?! So, we each grabbed a weapon (I, a hammer, Brian, a crowbar) and proceeded to do a clean sweep of the house. We scoured every nook and cranny of the basement and went outside to survey the perimeter.

Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, our search turned up nothing. While this little drama unfolded, I couldn't help but wonder, what really made that sound? An actual monkey? The neighbor's dog? Some prankster teenagers? A burglar? Ahh! To help me sleep I pulled barricades (trash cans, chairs, American flags) in front of several of my doors.

The monkey hunters in all their fierce bravery. I'm in my pajamas, people.

Spiders 2.0

My house must be some kind of arachnid Mecca and all spiders that have the means must make a pilgrimage here at least once in their lifetime. And September must be their holy month. I find spiders everywhere. EVERYWHERE. They had practically taken over my garage until I did a furious clean sweep a few weeks ago. They pop up in window sills, in door frames, on the fence, on the deck, on the siding, on the stairs, and now on my shoes.

I'd only worn this pair a day or two ago and already a spider has claimed it as its own. I killed the spider after I took this picture. I guess that makes me a religious terrorist and the spider a martyr.

Look closely. That unassuming black dot is actually a spider suspended between the heel and sole of my shoe.

Bumper Crop

A bumper crop of apples on my parents' farm means good eats for me. Well, really, just one good eat. I'm going to turn all of the apples into apple crisp. I have so many apples, I project I will have apple crisp to eat for the next three weeks. Hooray!

I plan on stashing the apples in my basement until they are called into action. Hopefully, they'll keep. That's what cellars are all about, right?

How do you like them apples? Very well, thanks.