I heard some Hellacious (Yes, that’s a word. At least in Maine.) chattering the other afternoon.
Looked out back…
And saw momma red squirrel perched on the plant hanger.
She was flicking her tail and screeching like a Hollywood starlet who ran out of Botox.
She screeched so hard a seed fell out of her mouth.
It only took me a minute to figure out why.
The other visitor.
No worries readers, momma escaped unharmed.
They’re everywhere.
Call me crazy, but I doubt this chicka is beating the men off with a stick.
Do I need to feel like Judy Jetson when I dispose of that slightly blue, mold covered cucumber that got pushed to the back of the crisper drawer?
No.
I do not.
Again with the space age crap. If I don’t know what year it is when I wake up?
I need to stop drinking, not buy a new clock.
Oh, yeah. These are sexy.
Perhaps she can double date with that hot Trekkie at the top.
Zero gravity?
I’m pretty sure if I ever find myself there, writing a grocery list or a thank you note won’t be my top priority.
And while I don’t need a dehydration light to flash in my water bottle…. this product might have adult beverage applications.
“Drink! You’re starting to sober up!”
Okay.
I’d buy that.
My slightly twisted, but delightfully so, friend Masercot has just nominated me for this:
For which I will be sticking pins in a doll of his likeness and waiting for parts of him to drop off eternally grateful.
You know the drill, I have to answer questions.
Thankfully… because he’s twisted, this won’t be the hardship it normally is.
Let’s begin.
If you could choose any historical figure to hold your hair out of the toilet while you drunkenly vomit at a party, who would it be and why?
I’m going to have to go with Lord Byron. The man drank his liquor out of a cup made from a human skull. You have to admire that kind of commitment.
If you HAD to own a pet and it couldn’t be a dog or a cat, to what country would you flee to escape such a fascist regime. Remember that “Canada” is not an acceptable answer.
Australia…. where my dream pet wombats roam free.
What is your favorite, currently active, credit card number?
Nice try. But you know my only form of currency is tequila. If I can’t buy it with a perfectly mixed margarita? I don’t need it.
You’ve been told you will be allowed to join Trump’s Space Force if you sleep with a Marx Brother and Zeppo is not available. Which do you sleep with and why?
Can’t we just jettison Trump into space and call it good?
If you had to recommend an illegal drug to the youth of America, which drug would it be and how?
Blogging. It’s horribly addicting…. but so satisfying.
Do you think pound cake is overrated?
Only if it weighs 14 ounces.
Do you like Aquaman’s new look or do you prefer the blonde hair and tights?
I actually sat through the entire new Aquaman movie. Sober. Need I say more?
In keeping with tradition (and not because I want to force my friends to share the misery that are these never ending awards) I shall post the rules.
Display the award logo
Thank the blogger who nominated you and post a link to their blog
Answer the questions of the one who nominated you
Nominate some bloggers
Ask them seven questions
I will now gleefully nominate:
James because I had to sit through an entire months worth of Star Wars posts and he owes me.
liveandletthai since he’s always whining not enough people read his blog and just discovered he can make alcohol from dried hibiscus blossoms. You never know when that will come in handy.
clevergirlwrites she’s clever, and a girl. We need to stick together.
Boo because we’ve been blog friends a long time and I like to harass her long distance.
swingedcat he makes me laugh and posts bison photos. Friends like that are harder to find than you think.
My questions:
Would any of you be willing to let a slightly pissed off red squirrel and her children rent a room? The sooner the better, I’m getting hateful looks.
If you could change one thing about your spouse/partner/significant other/blow up girlfriend what would it be, and why?
Can you talk me into eating kale in 50 words or less? I know you can’t, but it will be fun to see you try.
You win an all expense paid trip for two to Antarctica, do you bring a Kardashian or Caitlyn Jenner?
By some strange twist of fate, you’re elected President of the United States in 2020. What’s your first executive order?
And finally, if you’ve made it this far…. why do bloggers feel compelled to keep this award thing going when none of us really like them?
Wait…. what!
You mean I didn’t have to?
Sure, now you tell me.
Oh, you thought the squirrel eviction was the end?
No, that was merely a side story.
The nightmare was the hole.
And the decades worth of squirrel nests concealed there in.
Appropriately masked, the husband approached.
Pulled a panel and…
How’s that for an action shot?
Man, you would not believe how much stuff he pulled out of there.
It was, in a word…. disgusting.
And landed everywhere.
If that isn’t enough to make the husband pay attention when I wave the honey do list in the future?
Nothing ever will be.
So now we had an empty hole.
A big empty hole with a badly installed spotlight fixture.
And a momma squirrel… who even though she found and moved her babies… still wanted back in.
So as the husband worked, with an audience, and stomped my geraniums to such a pulp I had to temporarily relocate them…
Momma squirrel was watching.
Many frustrating hours later, just as I was willing to admit defeat and use this-
It was done.
Hole plugged.
And momma red thwarted. We think.
I mean really.
It physically hurt.
But I was with the husband and he looked at me like I was a lunatic when I told him I needed to try on a pair.
Damn.
I could totally have rocked these during mud season.
First there were two in back of the big barn.
Then three.
Then four.
Then five little scampers!
No wonder momma chucker needs a support bra.
So…
Momma squirrel was not happy we’d disturbed and scattered her children.
Not. At. All.
Matter of fact, she was downright pissed. And as the husband was working on fixing that awful hole…
She was positively manic, running to and fro….
Climbing….
Perching..
Even trying to get in the house.
It was crazy.
But what she really wanted was back in that hole.
And as the husband worked, she watched.
See her up top?
The longer it went on…. the braver she got.
There were times I thought she would climb right over the husband to get in there.
She was one mad momma.
To be continued…
I think we’ve established I won’t eat it.
I’m not eating the kale chips.
I’m not drinking the kale smoothies….
Hell no.
But this?
This is a bridge too far.
Now you want me to wash my hair with it?
Vegan?
Damn…. and here I was looking forward to lathering up with a nice chunk of fat back.
Nope.
This is a kale free household and it’s going to stay that way!
First let’s deal with the peckers.
Because we all know not paying attention to peckers makes them crazy.
This is a hairy woodpecker.
Why hairy?
Your guess is as good as mine.
He loves the peanut nugget feeder and is an expert at extracting them.
There.
Now you can say you’ve had a hairy pecker wink at you.
This is a downy woodpecker.
Why downy?
Your guess is as good as mine.
To be honest, he looks more like a Storm Trooper from Star Wars to me.
Then we have a pair of Mallard ducks who visit daily.
The female strolls around under the bird feeder collecting scraps….
While the drake plops down and takes a load off.
That’s one chill duck.
Big Tom turkey?
Yes, we have one of those too.
And finally, a Baltimore Oriole getting his junk food Jones satisfied with some grape jelly.
It would be nice if he didn’t poo all over the feeder…. but hey.
Who am I to judge?
Since the viral apocalypse…. all the town offices in Maine are closed, as is the Department of Motor Vehicles.
While you can renew things online, buying a new or used car means a title transfer and paperwork that must be done in person.
In the meantime, we’ve been told to keep the bill of sale in our glove boxes and make up a temporary plate stating the Covid 19 crisis.
I think this guy nailed it.
River's world..... 