Sunday afternoon, while sitting outside on the patio, the dogs were circling around the bottom of the big tree, obviously tormenting half of the pair of squirrels residing therein. They were staring up intently, barking, hoping fate would provide them an opportunity to enjoy a little squirrelo-a-dogo meeting. Suddenly, we spotted a flash of movement through the air which landed with a resounding THUD on the ground right behind the dogs. The squirrel, who apparently missed a branch somewhere, lay on the ground post-belly flop stunned, but only for a second. He looked up and literally flew high through the air to the trunk of the tree, just out of reach of the visiting Taz dog and scurried, out of breath and panicked up the tree until it found a place to rest in the crotch of one of the limbs. The dogs were extremely disappointed they missed their chance and walked back sullenly to the house. That had to be one hurtin’ squirrel, but Sunday was his lucky day.
Ever want to sleep in a tent? I’ve been there many a time. Of course I was under 25 and had a back that didn’t scream when it hadn’t been safely ensconced in luxury. But, I have this weird thing I want to do—sleep in a tent under the stars after a long hike in a sleeping bag for two. That whole, where will I shower and I don’t do outhouses or the bushes thing, I have yet to figure out.
Why does the newspaper boy throw my newspaper in the spot that is furthest away from my front door? Think psychedelic PJs with my hair standing straight up, and me in my usual pre-caffeinated dazed and confused state, and you’ll understand my dilemma. Do I dart out to the other side of the driveway as is, or wait until the great transformation, post-shower? As Winter comes, this will be less of an issue…it will be dark…and I won’t scare the neighbors. He wonders why I don’t tip.
As the weekend begins, I’m just glad that all things are as they should be.
Published on: Sep 9, 2006
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