Cash in Those Owl Pellets

Sara and I's first apartment was at the scenic junction of I-15 and Bangerter Highway. It was definitely the best apartment in the world, as proven by the many sorts of creatures that flocked there, including the drug dealers below us, and the entire troop of pigeons above us. Neither of these groups of pests were easy to get rid of since the apartment management and the state of Utah wouldn't allow us to exterminate anybody. Anxious to prove to my new little wife my handiness, I bought a plastic owl and trained it to look threatening. I placed him on our porch and waited for the swarms of intruders to evacuate, but to no avail. Instead, we learned to accept our new life of scratches and coos coming from above, and sirens and sweet-smelling smoke wafting from below.

The owl sat prominently on our dresser for many long whiles until about a year ago when I had a sudden epiphany that he would make a spectacular place to hold our pennies. Zoe and I used a hammer and a screwdriver to put a quarter chute in his noggin and voila! Owl bank! I'm just realizing now that the whole reason I did this might have been to reprove my handyman prowess to Sara. Chicks really dig guys that can use common tools to convert plastic fowl into banking vessels.

Last month the owl was getting very heavy, so we decided to cash his guts in at the bank and use the proceeds to buy souvenirs during our annual April trip. You'd never believe it, but there was exactly $50.00 and one peso in that owl. Yehaw! But enough about the empty owl, I've got about 120 pictures of our April road trip burning a hole in my c: drive, and now that my exam is over, off we go down the yellow brick road to the merry old land of Blog.