No doubt, you expect this post to be about the pitter-pattering of my sweet grandbabies’ feet. And believe, me, that is a sweet sound. But for the past several days, the pitter-pattering I’ve been hearing is not from within the walls of my home, rather the roof over my head. The noise is coming, not from sweet baby feet, but from little tiny squirrel feet. You’d think they could romp effortlessly over the shingles without much noise. Evidently, the squirrels who live at The 409, are as avid eaters as we human occupants. Fat little boogers, they must be, to make such a racket. Yesterday I had to retrieve something from my car, and as I walked back inside, I noticed one of the varmints perched precariously at the edge of the roof, scavenging the gutter for treasured acorns. There are thousands of acorns on the ground. I wonder if the soggy ones in the gutter have a better flavor. Gourmet acorns, if you will. They must be pretty yummylicious, because the little fella kept diggin’ around for the longest time. Squirrels are actually cute little critters, and I rather enjoy watching them play. They chase each other across the yard and through the branches of trees, leaping from limb to limb. Though their antics seem a bit dangerous, I’ve never seen one hit the ground. They always manage to grab hold of a limb and live to play another day. I never particularly minded having them around, but a few summers ago, I bought myself some nice Spanish-moss-lined wire hanging flower basket thingies. And some high-priced Wave petunias to go inside them. Just gotta love those drooping, bountiful blooms. And of course only the best of potting soil would do. I was so excited to hang them on the front porch of my new (to me) house. They were beautiful!! “Were” being the operative word here. Once the squirrels discovered my freshly planted flowers, in the freshly purchased Miracle Gro potting soil, they decided to throw a squirrel party. Not only did they bury their winter treats in my hanging baskets, they took dirt baths in them. Have you ever seen a squirrel take a dirt bath? Here’s a visual for you: They begin by digging a little hole in the dirt, then diving nose first into the hole. Somehow using their furry little arms and legs, they then curl themselves into a ball and roll over and over in the dirt. My Miracle Gro dirt. Scattering it all over my front porch. My poor Wave petunias were the true casualties of this party, left to wither on the porch, in the bushes, or stubbornly hanging on for dear life inside the basket. It was a hanging basket massacre. I was livid. My neighbor Alex laughed and laughed. He had watched me carefully measure the soil and color-coordinate the petunias, and meticulously seat them in the baskets… and warned me about the squirrels. “No”, I assured him, “The squirrels won’t be able to get to my baskets.” Well. I guess he got the last laugh after all. Squirrels are mystical, magical creatures, they are, and like a mouse or a snake, can get anywhere their little squirrely hearts want to go. And this time they wanted to get in my baskets. I straightaway went to the store and bought some stuff called Critter Gone, or something of that nature. Hmph. Just a box of glorified moth balls is all that was. Works pretty good though, as long as one doesn’t mind one’s beautiful flowers smelling like moth balls. But back to the squirrels at hand… I’m sure these must be the ancestors of the flower-basket squirrels, intent on punishing me for putting a stop to the mutilation of the aforementioned baskets. This current family of squirrels is enjoying the crisp fall weather, cavorting about in my yard from tree to tree, and just doing what squirrels do. Their favorite place to play, though, is on my rooftop, scampering about sounding like a herd of cattle. Honestly, if it were Christmas time, I’d think it was “the prancing and pawing of each little hoof” that I am hearing. Oh well… I guess a little squirrel fun isn’t too bad. At least they sleep at night, and at least they’re just on the roof, and not in the attic. Ummm… Alex, you DID put those screens over my attic vents, didn’t you???
Monday, October 26, 2009
The Pitter Patter Of Little Feet
No doubt, you expect this post to be about the pitter-pattering of my sweet grandbabies’ feet. And believe, me, that is a sweet sound. But for the past several days, the pitter-pattering I’ve been hearing is not from within the walls of my home, rather the roof over my head. The noise is coming, not from sweet baby feet, but from little tiny squirrel feet. You’d think they could romp effortlessly over the shingles without much noise. Evidently, the squirrels who live at The 409, are as avid eaters as we human occupants. Fat little boogers, they must be, to make such a racket. Yesterday I had to retrieve something from my car, and as I walked back inside, I noticed one of the varmints perched precariously at the edge of the roof, scavenging the gutter for treasured acorns. There are thousands of acorns on the ground. I wonder if the soggy ones in the gutter have a better flavor. Gourmet acorns, if you will. They must be pretty yummylicious, because the little fella kept diggin’ around for the longest time. Squirrels are actually cute little critters, and I rather enjoy watching them play. They chase each other across the yard and through the branches of trees, leaping from limb to limb. Though their antics seem a bit dangerous, I’ve never seen one hit the ground. They always manage to grab hold of a limb and live to play another day. I never particularly minded having them around, but a few summers ago, I bought myself some nice Spanish-moss-lined wire hanging flower basket thingies. And some high-priced Wave petunias to go inside them. Just gotta love those drooping, bountiful blooms. And of course only the best of potting soil would do. I was so excited to hang them on the front porch of my new (to me) house. They were beautiful!! “Were” being the operative word here. Once the squirrels discovered my freshly planted flowers, in the freshly purchased Miracle Gro potting soil, they decided to throw a squirrel party. Not only did they bury their winter treats in my hanging baskets, they took dirt baths in them. Have you ever seen a squirrel take a dirt bath? Here’s a visual for you: They begin by digging a little hole in the dirt, then diving nose first into the hole. Somehow using their furry little arms and legs, they then curl themselves into a ball and roll over and over in the dirt. My Miracle Gro dirt. Scattering it all over my front porch. My poor Wave petunias were the true casualties of this party, left to wither on the porch, in the bushes, or stubbornly hanging on for dear life inside the basket. It was a hanging basket massacre. I was livid. My neighbor Alex laughed and laughed. He had watched me carefully measure the soil and color-coordinate the petunias, and meticulously seat them in the baskets… and warned me about the squirrels. “No”, I assured him, “The squirrels won’t be able to get to my baskets.” Well. I guess he got the last laugh after all. Squirrels are mystical, magical creatures, they are, and like a mouse or a snake, can get anywhere their little squirrely hearts want to go. And this time they wanted to get in my baskets. I straightaway went to the store and bought some stuff called Critter Gone, or something of that nature. Hmph. Just a box of glorified moth balls is all that was. Works pretty good though, as long as one doesn’t mind one’s beautiful flowers smelling like moth balls. But back to the squirrels at hand… I’m sure these must be the ancestors of the flower-basket squirrels, intent on punishing me for putting a stop to the mutilation of the aforementioned baskets. This current family of squirrels is enjoying the crisp fall weather, cavorting about in my yard from tree to tree, and just doing what squirrels do. Their favorite place to play, though, is on my rooftop, scampering about sounding like a herd of cattle. Honestly, if it were Christmas time, I’d think it was “the prancing and pawing of each little hoof” that I am hearing. Oh well… I guess a little squirrel fun isn’t too bad. At least they sleep at night, and at least they’re just on the roof, and not in the attic. Ummm… Alex, you DID put those screens over my attic vents, didn’t you???
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