woof woof

Drinking beer from the Barking Squirrel glass my sis snagged from a kindly publican.

errands west of Dufferin

... where I now live: My bike was just repaired most expertly and quickly at Sweet Pete's and I picked up some treats and necessities at the newly-opened and Christmas-sparkly Nuthouse - a perfect shopping spot for a squirrel like me. I ran into some "I haven't seen you in ages" friends there.

West of Dufferin where I now live is starting to feel a lot like home.

squirrel on the move

Housemate: Just went to check the mail and see you have a hand addressed envelope dated 3:15 Aug. 9 (today) -- I assume it's from the "owners" -- let me know if you want me to open it or just leave it there or put in your house (which I've been doing with your other mail).

Me: Erk. Can you open it because I am having a slight panic attack :)

Housemate: I'm sorry it's not good news but it's what I suspected it was. It's a notice to terminate for landlord's own use that's effective Oct. 31, 2010.

Me: [redacted because of this "request" ]

Not completely unexpected of course.

I was having a drink on Carnaby Street with my cousin, his wife and my sister when I got this news.



The eviction notice arrived on the day I was scheduled to return from London but I have extended my stay for a couple of weeks. At least I will not be reading the notice as soon as I enter my long-loved home all weary from travel and jet lagged. That would have been a bit brutal. This way I have time to shake it off before I get back. And we got started on that right away.

My cousin and his wife had to head for home as the last train from London leaves before midnight. My sis took me on a mystery tour through the nighttime streets. We suddenly ducked in the side door of a building and dashed into the most splendiferous toilet I have ever seen. It was like a secret garden. Oddly.


I have no picture. This is from flickr. Click to see original.

I still didn't know where we were. We came out of the toilets and we were at Claridge's having a Breakfast at Tiffany's moment.

We went to the Fumoir. I had a Sazerac. I have never had one before but have wanted to try this delicious nectar ever since I saw State of the Union (Frank Capra's movie). The waiter was as perfect as the jewelry salesperson in Breakfast at Tiffany's and comfort and optimism were restored.

food!

a squirrel in the act of "no, no, i'm a f*cking squirrel."

the chipmonks tweet a squirrel

The chipmonks, children of a twitter friend made this beautiful squirrel for me. Isn't she lovely? Those are some clever chipmonks.

tellingtales tweets our snow day

It was a pretty weak snow day but any old port in a storm. Or not-storm :)






Click the pics to leave @tellingtales a comment.

what squirrels think

acrobat

This grey squirrel has never gone for the suet before -- until now he? she? has been a seed-only squirrel. It seems that the seed barrier is working and, necessity being the mother of invention, grey squirrel is learning to love suet. I wonder how eating while hanging upside down affects squirrel digestion. [I am pretty sure I mean affects and not effects but I am having a serious bout of grammar doubt. Kim will know. Maybe she will tell us.]

unfoiled

foiled?

I squirrel-proofed the birdfeeders with frisbees. So far it seems to be working. The squirrels are a little miffed but do not worry about them. I put out some seed on the table as a peace offering and lots of seed falls to the ground and they seem to enjoy that. Perhaps I should get them a new corn chair.

raiders

The squirrels love the new food source. This guy had his body wrapped around the seed feeder and was gorging on the BIRD food. He is a bit of a showboat. When I got the camera, he clambered up the tree to pose in front of the window.

news from the garden

First the good news. The lettuce seeds are sprouting!
















And now the SUPER-DUPER news. A friend of one of the housemates brought us this gnome for our garden. He is beautiful and will guard our plants. Thank you very much excellent friend. A garden is not really a garden until it has a gnome.

The bad news is that someone dug up the cucumbers. The gnome-bearing friend told us how to make little fortresses to protect the plants. Not only a great gift but helpful advice ... an amazing friend indeed.

I retrieved these fortress materials out of the recycling bin. I confess - the ice cream container was mine and the salad container was not! I got the Kawartha Dairy Moose Track ice cream for my dad when he and my mum came for lunch. He did not eat any - it was the lunch with the walnut cake (the ice cream was backup in case the cake fell flat). I then meant to take the Moose Track - and the Raspberry Ripple I got for my mum - to their house. The Raspberry Ripple made it but the Moose Track did not. Sorry Dad.

The combination of guardian gnome and reused-container towers seems to be working.











I know that some people, once they start gardening, start categorizing animals. Suddenly there are good animals and bad animals.

*

















I hope I do not start to change the way I feel about animals because of my garden.

I used to live in an apartment with a balcony and the squirrels would dig up my flower boxes. They would bury things in amongst the herbs. Why, with acres of yards and parks all around, they had to choose my teeny tiny flower box I am not sure. But so it goes. Who can explain nature?

One day, I had a firm-but-fair chat with a squirrel representative about the matter. I told her that I would not put any more corn in the special squirrel corn chair if they did not stop wrecking my plants. The squirrel was very attentive and no squirrel ever dug up my herbs and flowers again.

Nobody believes that story.

I think it happened because one night I freed a squirrel from one of those "humane" traps at my parents' place. Never, never tell them! I was sleeping over and I could hear the scared little squirrel rattling around in the cage. The trap had been set because the squirrels were living in my parents' walls and the parents were trying to get the squirrels to move out - they eventually had more luck with the squirrels than with us :) I went down and used a broom handle to release the trap door. The squirrel scampered up onto the fence, looked at me for a long time and then ran off. And now the squirrels know I am their friend. I am the Scarlet Pimpernel of squirrels. I am the Mysterious Barky Steel.

Nobody believes that either.

And if you ask my parents about humane traps, they harumph dismissively, "Oh those things never work."

______________________________

Notes:

My special corn chair had a table like this. My Uncle Walter's friend made it. You can get them here. I wish I still had mine. When my friend Peter saw a squirrel dining at the Corn Café, he exclaimed, "They really are nature's little wonders, aren't they?" Now he owns a house with a garden and he throws rocks at the squirrels who try to frolic there. I know why. The squirrels play havoc with his plants. But he is not the Mysterious Barky Steel!

*A little internet joke: apparently You Tube is having a nervous breakdown about this guy called Alex Jones and is tagging videos that talk about him as invalid arguments.