Some days are Diamonds

Flirtatious: " Come on up to my place and I'll show you my "Bald Eagle" etchings."

Real Mood: Vindicated

Prediction: Now that we've had three planes land with faulty gear and everybody survive?  The next one won't get nearly as much coverage.

Let's get this on the table.  It's my birthday and I'll go on the record and tell you the year I was born the average annual household income in this country was under $2,000.00.  Quit lookin' for more zeroes.  The average price of a house that family could live in was under 4,000.00. Quit lookin' for more goose eggs. If you really want to know my age you'll just have do your homework.

Of course I'll never forget my age on this birthday 'cause it was pretty special.  I remember telling Peggy on my birthday about eight years ago that I saw a Bald Eagle. It was just about a mile from the house.   Her reply, which has some level of accuracy, is, "every time you see a bird you think it's an eagle."

Well today Peggy gave me my choice of where to have my "birthday breakfast." (I have a heck of a time staying up for "birthday dinner.")  I had decided on this quaint little place that serves something called "Notanomelette." But as we were enroute some strange voice told me, "Don't go there. Go to the Perfect Landing."  So I did. 

My reputation is salvaged.  About two miles from home it is Peggy who espys our living national symbol. Just sitting there on a post looking for a prarie dog snack was "Old Baldy" himself. She says, "Look at that huge bird.  I think it's....It is...It's an eagle....It's a bald eagle!"

"Yup, told you they were around here."

Now you need to know I'm no stranger to these majestic birds. My photographer friend Jen and I got to participate in the banding of three chicks some years ago.  But everybody knew where the Eagle's nests were. There was no surprise, no challenge.

So....instead of heading off to breakfast I think....odds are incredibly against us, but?

I say, "suppose we try to go home, get the camera and tripod, and drive back here and try to get a picture of THE bird. You know nobody is going to believe us if we don't?"

"Yes, yes, yes," she says.  "Turn around."  And you need to know that is not like Peggy at all.  So we do the round trip, switch to the telephoto lens on the way, and by golly the "old bird" is still there.  Never got as close as we wanted, but close enough you can clearly make him out.  We got about 10 shots off  while he was on the post, and just one of him in flight.  The pictures are not going to win any photo contests. But next time either one of tells you we saw a "Bald Eagle?"

Our condolences to the family survivors of the devoured prarie dog.

My birthday was filled out with breakfast at the Perfect Landing, a field trip to see TV Chopper pilot Rich Westra ( I didn't know it, but it was Peggy's first close up look at a helicopter), a brisk aerobic walk through a muddy golf course, a steak sent in the mail by my step-daughter Rhonda, and some huge undeserved but desired concoction from "ColdStone."( If you don't have one in your neighborhood it's an ice cream parlor where they tenderize your ice cream with a sledge hammer before they hand it to you.)

I'm not going to sit here and tell you it was the "Best Birthday" of my whole life. ( My short and long term memories don't allow me to rank things over a week's period of time.)  But I can guarantee you this.  It was better than my 21st birthday where I ended up going to see a movie by myself.  It was better than my 30th which I was sure was the average life span of  that time. And thanks to "Old Baldy" I am going to remember which one I just had.

Some days are diamonds.  And that's not a clue.  You'll still have to do your homework.

"Happy Birthday to me. I'm so glad I'm ____ three."  Tee Hee!