Condemnations from an owl

This morning, before sunrise, when I went out to feed the horses, I heard a single sharp yell. Then in a minute another one. A deep single syllable cry. I thought it sounded like part of an owl call, but I hadn't heard the abbreviated version before. Not sure why, but apparently she was clearing her throat because a few minutes later the dreaded question was voiced loud and clear, "who cooks for you!!" That's the cry of a barred owl. The picture isn't of her; it is a little screech owl on campus that was brought to my attention by a pair of furious mockingbirds (never anger a mockingbird!) But, not having a picture of a barred owl handy, I just stuck this guy up to suggest the topic. I told Kevin that that barred owl was trying to condemn me for my lack of domesticity: for not cooking for us. Kevin does most of the cooking and it is sublime. I do the cleaning up most of the time. Nobody would know that I'm lacking in this wifely capacity if it weren't for a blabbing owl that keeps demanding that I admit it. So, I do, to the horses, the dogs, the cats and to you, too. Maybe that'll shut her up!