Careful What You Ask For

And now, the squirrels are gone. They must have moved to a new nest yesterday afternoon. (Probably because I didn't feed them...)

I'm kind of sad, you guys.

Spoke Too Soon

So... this morning when I looked out on the balcony I was greeted by four tiny eyes and a couple of almost bushy tales dashing frantically for cover. Turns out there is a little family of squirrels living out there, and if my internet research is any good? Those twins are about 6-7 weeks old, a little too young to be completely displaced. So, I'm going to give them a couple of weeks before I dismantle the nest behind the shed.

And:

I will not feed them.

I will not feed them.

I will not feed them.

(Unless they look really, really hungry.)

Eviction Notice

Storage is limited in our condo, and so over the years we have come up with some creative work-arounds. Probably the most inconvenient thing for us has been where to store our bikes. We need a place that is sheltered, accessible, and frankly, not in our house. A few years ago I found a pop-up canvas shed that nestles conveniently in a nook on the upstairs balcony which has worked pretty well for us. Last fall when I stored the bikes for the winter, I noticed a little tear in the fabric at about railing height. I should really fix that I said to myself before promptly forgetting all about it the moment I crossed the threshold and entered my warm house.

Well, the days are growing more temperate and this afternoon I went out to switch around a few items in that shed. Hmm, thought I, upon noticing a ragged hole in the bottom, could that be dry rot? I nudged the structure with my foot and nearly jumped through the screen door when it nudged back with a panicky skitter. Uh oh, I concluded, someone is in there. I took a moment to find the courage to unzip the proper opening, all the while expecting my tenant to burst out at me, but I underestimated the little critter, because there was a back door chewed in the rear which had been clearly used for evacuation.

The collection of dry leaves and sticks in the bottom led me to believe we were harboring a squirrel, a single squirrel, with no babies to complicate what had to be done. I left the shed open; it does not offer any shelter like that. A little while later I saw a squirrel frantically peeking from the railing into the original window-like tear, and my heart clutched a little. But it is spring here-- cold nights will be few, and now is as good a time as any to build a new nest.

Product Placement

On the third day of our visit to the Twin Cities we ate lunch in a huge new destination grocery store, part of a chain that has recently moved into the region. In addition to several counters and cases with prepared foods and pastries galore, the place also has custom butchery, seafood, bakery and an extensive produce section. There are also several "stores within the store" including clothing, housewares, and health foods. 

Before we set off exploring this multi-mart, we stopped in for lunch at the full service restaurant. It was half-priced sushi day, and we were not disappointed with the tuna and salmon tartare our five bucks purchased. The dining room itself was a warm and bright modern tavern with a big bar, some high counter-like tables and booths and several big screen TV broadcasting a variety of sporting events. 

There was one screen, however, that was dedicated to the Food Channel, which, at first glance seemed odd, until I remembered where we were and recognized the genius of it. See something you like? Everything you need to make it just happens to be right outside those brass and glass doors!

Pay up and start spending!

Driving Miss Tracey

Let me start with this:

I
love
to
drive.

I didn't get my license until I was 20, but I have more than made up for lost time. Usually? If my group is driving, then I am at the wheel.

BUT, my car has been in the shop since last Friday, which, of course, could be a big inconvenience.

On Saturday we roadtripped with my brother and sister-in-law on an epic journey to a relatively untraveled region of our state. Emily was a perfectly wonderful chauffeur, piloting us through both heavy traffic and unfamiliar roads with hardly a shrug. And I really appreciated my rare view from the back seat, a perspective I rarely enjoy.

The next day Heidi and I drove our Jeep down to a local national park so that we could go hiking. That's the vehicle that Heidi usually drives, and so I took navigator, and we rolled our way along some less traveled roads with the windows down and the radio blasting. Again, it was pretty nice to sit back and enjoy the scenery, tweaking our route here and there to avoid excess traffic.

And now we are in Minnesota visiting my mom, who as our always gracious hostess is driving us everywhere we go. Just this afternoon we toured some of the neighborhoods of the twin cities on our way to Como Park, and once again I found myself in the shotgun seat looking at the architecture and spring foliage. It was great!

Oh, I will be happy to get the car back, but this cloud has definitely not been without a silver lining.

Way Out

Wait. What?

The Uncle Ben's rice commercial has a peppy version of Peter Frampton's Show Me the Way? And then the next spot featured Blondie's One Way or Another?

Hey netwaork TV! The 70s called and they want their music back!

Payback

Years ago, while hiking in Shenandoah National Park, our party stopped to enjoy a waterfall and the pool it conveniently flowed into, almost like a water slide. My older nephew put his glasses on a rock to keep them safe, but somehow in all our splashing and sliding, his glasses were knocked off.

I remember that moment like it was in slow motion: first the glasses jumped up from the blow, and when they landed just a bit closer to the edge, they had lost their purchase and so plummeted into the pool. I plummeted after them, and wading as quickly as possible to where that tiny splash had appeared  I plunged my arm to the sandy bottom below and was miraculously rewarded by the unmistakable feel of plastic and glass and snatched them up even as the force of the falls was washing the away.

I thought of that afternoon this afternoon in Prince William Forest, another national park, when as I stood by the side of a tiny waterfall, no more than an out-sized rapid, really, my sunglasses inexplicably slipped from my grip and, just as before, in the slowest of slow motion, gathered their momentum on the gray stone and dropped into the stream.

Oh, there was no miracle in the woods today, but the sky was blue and the air was warm, and so I shrugged it off and called it even.