a small space of tranquility

This week has been spent readying for out-of-town guests, and one more room has been (mostly) unpacked and organized. We also experienced several days of cooler temperatures (in the 70's) and bright sunshine. All of which combined to make working in the guest room a lovely experience. I had the fleeting thought that the bed looked like the perfect place to take a long nap. (That was before Little Bear began bouncing on it.)

 

When I glanced outside, however, I saw this and all my good feelings flew out the window. Quite literally.

 

I loathe squirrels, and our enmity has existed ever since they chewed their way through our soffit to make a nest out of a box of books in our attic. Feeder raiding aside, they have done nothing but proved themselves diabolically destructive furry rodents. Please don't forward me pictures of squirrels being raised by mother dogs or tigers or whatever with the phrase why can't we just get along? at the bottom. I warn you, the message will fall upon deaf ears...or eyes...or whatever the case may be. In my opinion, the only good squirrel is a dead one. Which is why I've requested a pellet gun for Mother's Day this year. Or a sling shot. I'll happily accept either one.

The Husband worries that I've become unnaturally obsessed with warding off unwanted feeder raiders. Admittedly I'll dash out the back door in mid-sentence regardless of any chores or meal preparations to chase off a squirrel or grackle. Yes, grackles are discouraged as well. In my defense, the birding book told me to. I realize that I must appear mildly mental about the entire thing, but really, that cheeky squirrel is entirely too brazen to be tolerated. Some afternoons he lies on the railing of the deck on his stomach with his four paws dangling down, as if chowing down on sunflower seeds is so exhausting. I'm sure he thinks I should bustle out there with a cold drink and a parasol. Instead, I fling pine cones at him.

The good news is that Brown Thrasher and Mr. Cardinal aren't intimidated. And that lifts my spirits.

Comments

[PrixMadonna]

Squirrels. Ugh.

[Rebecca]

That guest room is beautiful!

Apparently the Brits are enraged at us for sending them our gray squirrels which beat up their native red squirrels. I say we offer a swap: they send back our gray squirrels and we'll ship the starlings. Now THERE'S a nasty little barstud. (My favorite of Micah's euphemisms).

[margo]

hey, I HATE squirrels too! They chewed through our plastic trash cans so we got metal ones. They dig up my bulbs. They chewed through our balcony floor and GOT INTO OUR CEILING. I seriously wanted to get a slingshot but my husband pointed out that I would be paying for lots of broken windows, most likely, and no dead squirrels. I would join you in your mad dash to the yard.
And then I would retire to your lovely room for a lie down to quiet my nerves. pah! ugly buggers.

[Janet Eisenbise]

Would a gentle reminder that they are all God's creatures help? No? Oh my, a call to arms!

[Amy O]

Oh Kathy, I think youre right about them being from outer space. And thats an insult to space!

[Kathy Seiders]

I had very bad squirrel experiences as well, so I appreciate you vengence for them. One year, (about 15 years ago - that's right I don't forget these kind of things) a squirrel broke in, well ripped into, my tent when we were camping and (wait for it) PEED on MY sleeping bag. No one else's, just mine. OOOOH the fury!
I've also had them chew a whole into a very nice picnic basket to get to the peanut M&M's at the bottom. And then to much disgrace - shelled the M&M's, ate the peanut and LEFT THE CHOCOLATE.
These creatures are obviously from another planet!
Didn't mean to go on and on - I just had to vent with you.