For those of you paying attention

In January we had a drop-in guest during that
horrible cold wave (Polar Vortex #1 of 2019).

Do you remember the story?

Do you remember what we named her?

Can you even recall what type of
critter she is?

Well, Click is doing fine, thank you.
Our 'keeper' tells me she healthy
and content, and is on track for a
successful release this spring.

This is happiness.
[sigh]
<3 p="">

It's been a wild week, in more ways than one

It was as though I could feel the biological clock ticking for Click - "Click" being the name we gave our drowsy, confused, nocturnal upstairs-turned-downstairs drop-in house guest. Not knowing whether it was male or female, "Click" seemed the safest moniker to bestow, and, as there were no objections, "Click" it was... er, um... IS.
Oh, yeah, and it's a girl, everybody!
As I was droning:
...every hour labored by, and I grew concerned over how much time was passing, hurting Click's chances for returning successfully to her torpor. Let's face it, a bucket in a cold laundry closet versus wedging oneself between layers of insulation and a warm ceiling in an attic are hardly matching states of temperatures and conditions. Plus, she's now no longer able to self-regulate her own physical condition successfully, so that stress was taking a toll on her fat reserves and chances of survival.
You see, you don't feed or water a bat - or any animal - in that somewhat awakened state of hibernation, you let them be. But this was an exception to the rule of wildlife happenstance. Click had managed to self-regulate herself in torpor from her cozy attic digs into our living space, complete with much warmer temperatures - and cats! Her odds had changed drastically for the worse in the twitch of a wing. I knew it was critical to keep her safe, and to also keep her cool - but how much cooler was cool enough?

Now you understand why that biological clock wasn't just ticking away - it was pounding like the inner workings of Big Ben. The window of opportunity for her making it through the week, let alone the winter, were slipping away.
This all began Tuesday, late in the day, as best we can narrow down the timeline. 'The twins' (Odin and Booker, for those of you not as familiar with our furry family) had probably followed the scratching noises of Click's movements above their heads most of the day, until she squoze herself through a recessed light fixture into our area.
Karl noticed Booker was fixated on something in the window (probably) much later in the day, and eventually Karl let me know that "something odd [was] hanging on the curtains - and it's clicking at me!"
Was it a moth or some other bug? I asked him. No, no. Perhaps a frog? No, and that's when he mentioned the noise; I told him it sounds like he was describing a bat. He said it didn't look like a bat, so I told him to look behind the drape panel (I still could not visualize how it was hanging from the drapes through our phone call) - and then he shrieked like a man. There was a lot of noise from his end of the phone, some his, some furniture he was crashing into, and some was the terror of the twins as they reacted to Karl's surprise.
The poor little thing was moving to conceal itself from approaching danger - things that would eat it. Confusion and noise (lots of both), and I was missing out; I can only imagine what it all looked like. [hilarity ensued]
I won't bore you with the ins and outs of the capture procedure - suffice to say you would have thought it an episode of I Love Lucy and not some random house on a quiet neighborhood street, with a loose bat evading two grown humans and two vigilant cats.
We made as many calls to numbers we could quickly locate that evening, just in hopes of getting some fast explanations on how to proceed, or where to take it for a safe return to the wild once warmer weather arrived - MONTHS from now. There's a Bat Conservancy organization in MI, for crying out loud - I know because I had planned to attend a huge presentation only the year before. How come I wasn't getting any of this info from anyone? Better still, why weren't any of the three advertised 24-hour 'call us any time' numbers taking calls at 8:45PM?
Internet wisdom suggested securing it without hurting it, or putting pets or humans at risk, and keeping the critter cool (but in a house?). We couldn't manage the 35*-40* (and we were not going to place the bat-in-a-bucket in the 'frig), but we could get a mid-fifty range to help a little towards the metabolic requirement. So, off to the lower level laundry closet it went.
Wednesday passed with a lot of web searching and phone calls. Hand-wringing was also a key part of the goings-on, but there wasn't much more we could do for the diminutive cutie except pray and continue to beat the bushes. With no access to my fb account while at work, suggestions stacked up and anything I could find online dried up with each phone call. I grew more concerned that there was no good plan coming to fruition in favor of our at-risk intruder. All the answers I received were either, "no, wrong number," "kill it, it has rabies," or "you've reached a non-working number." Infinitely frustrating.
One suggestion was to throw it outdoors, with the theory being it would quickly find a warm place - but I just couldn't bring myself to that end. Oh, maybe, had it been over forty degrees and no nighttime temps in the twenties, perhaps I would have had a less guilty attitude (and fewer thoughts of committing murder) and done that. But it wasn't and they weren't....so another night in the can ensued - along with the guilt and helpless feeling of this little bats' fate balancing precariously in my hands.
Knowing full well it was most likely now not in full torpor, and that it now most likely required water - if not food - I reasoned I would go to the local pet shop for some insect take-out on Thursday...no matter what.
Lest you think/ask why I didn't simply return the sweetie back to the attic, let me explain my thought process. If Click did manage to return to torpor and then back to more of a successful hibernation state, I had my doubts that due to the past 2 days of calorie-burning full heart rate and breathing (and warm temps), she didn't physically have what would have been necessary to sustain her through the rest of winter any longer. At least, that was how I felt.
I am a worrier - there, I said it.
If I did return her to the attic, would she succumb to the combination of what had transpired; would we find her remains later? Would she be barely alright through all of winter only to be too weak to make it out in the spring and die then? I just couldn't take that chance with her life. It wasn't my life to toy with, but it *was* my responsibility to help her.
__Fast forward to Thursday, because I fell asleep reading Wed night.__
On the drive to work, I dialed the one number I saw any quick hope in, and left a voice message. The person I called returned my message with a fantastic response, and I cheered several times as I parked the car and ran inside.
Buoyed for the rest of the day, I had a tough time making eight hours not seem like eighty, and I called Karl periodically to have him spot-check Click's condition. Now that I knew there was a huge positive chance, I had Karl put a container of water in the bucket. Click was going to be alright - I hoped.
Managing to peel myself away from work one hour later than I wanted to, I flew home to gather up Karl and Click to make the nearly one hour trip to the land of bat salvation. And, yes, I am going to continue being somewhat cryptic throughout this explanation, for reasons which will become obvious (to the smarter ones out there). Just kidding, because all my friends are pretty doggone brilliant.
There are only two trained/qualified/licensed/approved caretakers of wildlife creatures, such as Click, in the state of chaos (a.k.a. MI), and fortunately this person resides not too horribly far from me. Let that sink in - one of only two! There are way more needful creatures than can be cared for by two people. There's something wrong with these odds, people.
Lemme see if I can correctly describe the rehabbing dilemma in the state of Michigan. If I get it wrong, in part or in whole, a knowledgeable person can feel free to correct me. While bats are a protected species because of population decline - for many MAN-MADE reasons, it is illegal to care for them when an issue has been identified and care is required. The state will require training and licensing and reviews and fees, and all of that hoo-ha and folderol and more, but makes it illegal to actually perform the deed. Bureaucracy and hypocrites are kissing cousins!
Anyway, the long and the short of it is (I know, it's far too late for "the short of it") that our new friend - AND HERO - has taken Click into her care (no, I will not say 'under her wing'), adding to a fantastic community of rescued bats, who are over-wintering in a fabulous bat resort. I am now a small part of the bat underground, and will proudly help their cause in any way I can. Our rescuer gave Click a complete physical and sexed her, telling us she is a MI Large Brown Bat, I would have figure a small variety, but nope...Large Brown Bats are small, and Small Brown Bats are smaller, yet.. LOL
Click ate 15 mealy worms, which is good! She is a yearling, and was on the emaciated side of the scale, but will rebound nicely, and will be returned to the world in the spring once the weather mellows enough for the bugs to become plentiful and life-sustaining for beautiful little creatures like Click.
God bless the rehabbers of the world - they are few and far between, but they make such a huge difference in their own ways; their compassion has no bounds for those with no voice. I am blessed to know six, and number them among my friends. I am proud to be a batty subversive!

The skunks are at it, again

I am not certain why we are experiencing another onslaught of skunk aroma this morning, but the odor began around 5:30 this morning, and has only grown stronger (a.k.a. WORSE) over the last hour or so.

Usually this only happens in the spring around mating season, but apparently the lil' varmints have decided to give it another go for the year. (?)

Pew!

Critter update ('cuz it's sort of weather related)

Noticed a sharp increase of lightning bug pyrotechnics last night.  It was a splendid show!  Thank you, Mother Nature.

In the same vein, we are hearing the first locust(s) of the summer this morning - that rain made it all happen.  Hoo-boy!

Spring has arrived!

Most folks around these parts believe the robin to be the harbinger of spring, but those portly little birds are around for much of the year to begin with (and have been in evidence since January this year) - so, phooey on that theory.

There's no spring in January.  I'm just sayin'.

Nope, for me it's the flocking return of Canada geese and our lovely little ducks.  Waddling lumps of feathers and noise; they spell the imminent return of spring and fairer weather.

But the actual telltale sign of spring has got to be the resounding drumming of a woodpecker in a nearby tree.  Unmistakable and convincing in its rat-a-tat-a-tat-a-dddrrrrrrrrt-a-dddrrrrrrt-a!

This morning I heard it loud and clear - the pushing of the "go button" for spring.  Thank you, Mr. Woodpecker. : )

Weekend flurry and furry

Glad to say the weekend is half over (slightly over half), and I will be back home again in the wink of an eye to continue with ongoing projects.  I hate leaving things in a lurch half through - or, in process.

We saw two deer cross the road in front of us as we left our subdivision early in the morning. I don't think Karl has seen deer that close up for quite a while, and it wowed him as they casually strolled from the curb on our right to the other side of the street. No running or frantic weaving and jumping. They simply stepped onto the roadway much as a pedestrian would in a crosswalk downtown.

It was enchanting in the foggy morning hours, and it seemed to set the tone for the hours ahead.

Karl had a good day in class; he presented his two-part project in front of the class (not easy for him to speak in front of a group of strangers) and listened to comments and suggestions with an open mind.  While he wasn't thrilled with the idea of sharing his two montages (because after the first two presenters - each only sharing one apiece - he was disappointed in the quality of his work), he did reluctantly come to understand the need for following directions and doing the best you are capable of doing, instead of just trying to get something done without applying yourself to the task. 

He came to understand that despite the arm-twisting, yelling fits, stalling tactics, and just out-n-out arguing about 'why this project was necessary at all,' that he did achieve a goal.  He saw that it was fulfilling and satisfying to stand among the small handful of folks who finished and complied with the requirements instead of slinking behind a desk and hiding because he had nothing to offer.

I honestly think he exhibited a great deal of pride after getting over the embarrassment and fright factors.  Although, I also feel that the following few assignments will also be met with stalling and lame excuses. [sigh]

Yea!

In other news:
Staying with the Gran for one overnight period.  Glad it helps the family, but sometimes I feel like a pinch hitter; only thought of, and called from the dusty dugout recesses when nothing else can be worked out. 

As I grow older my familial feelings shrink to encompass only a basic few people.  I feel less included in (and wanted by) what should be a sprawling group of folks - and so I distance myself even further to keep from feeling the sting.  Removing myself (or staying remote from situations - not just familial) before someone else has a chance to do it has always been a better operating standard for me.  I learned it in my teens as mom moved us around a lot, and it was a habit I had to re-institute in my twenties to keep from crumbling.

I am the outsider with a camera. The observer. We'll call you. One day. Every other month. Maybe.

Beating people to the punch has always been the way I navigate life.  It may not be a great way of life, but I am still walking the planet.  Bitter (maybe) but still walking.

Anyhow, I did manage to see Wuthering Heights for the first time!  Gran turned on her favorite movie channel, and there it was!

So, maybe the weekend wasn't "furry" so much as 'deer hide-y', and a little chaotic location-wise.

The sounds of the zoo

I don't know what it's like where you live...what creatures you share your home with. Here, the morning noises are a strange mix as everyone wakes to begin their days and activities.

Personally, I live with two trolls and three cats. 

Ah, yes...and the forty pound acrobat squirrels, who jump on (and romp 'round) my roof and gutters; the precocious chipmunks (which once were cute - until they managed to invade my house walls); the massive flock of sparrows, wrens, and chickadees bellowing in the bushes along the driveway, and; the lumbering groundhogs who simply must die before they can bore any more ankle-wrenching, lawnmower-swallowing holes in my backyard!

For now, I am content with the early morning ticking of the clock from the kitchen, the infrequent drone of the refrigerator compressor, and the ocassional car passing on the street.  Soon enough my trolls will begin to low in their beds, trying to remain asleep but knowing they should rise. 

That's when the girls and I will make our noises. Ha!

Karl's visitors

Every so often Karl has an itch which needs scratching. Whether he knows it or not, he desires company. A day with activity and camaraderie. Time spent face-to-face with humans who are not bent solely on destroying another civilization and stealing their 'life points'.

We all do from time to time.

It's just that he chats and yaks and grumbles at people online so often that he doesn't realize he really does want some human interaction, too - and needs it.

Yesterday, he had been on the phone with Tony (a friend of his) for quite a while, when one of them decided it would be a good idea to ask if I thought it would be a good idea if Tony came over to our place, or for Karl to go over to Tony's.

My simple answer was that they should figure out if one of those choices would be to their liking. After all, did they want to get together? If yes, then that was pretty much the question answered. Of course, that decision then created another choice to tackle; which option should they choose? Karl there or Tony here?

Two Autistic youths making decisions is fun to watch unfold. Sort of like origami in reverse.

I won't go into all of the particulars, suffice it to say they eventually came to the obvious choice, and we drove over to Tony's to pick him up for the afternoon. Given the hour of the day, I figured there would be dinner to make once they became hungry enough, so I prepped for that.

'Round about 11PM I let them know it was time to wrap it up and get Tony home.

By midnight (egads!) they were ready to roll.

LOL

All of this to say, as Karl and I approached the house last night, after taking Tony home, my headlights illuminated I shape on the lawn. It was most definitely NOT cat. It was much too late for a squirrel. Possums tails are not bushy or upright (as this one was), and it wasn't moving appropriately for a racoon. I slowed my speed and got a great look as the critter turned to face us with a bit of posturing.

It was a skunk! I haven't seen one of those in a long time, but I was delighted to watch him size us up as we watched his movements.

Karl was not thrilled in the least as his mind raced quickly to the "oh-my-gawd-how-do-we-get-to-the-front-door-without-being-sprayed?" question.

Not to worry. He moved to the shadow at the backside of the large tree in our front yard, and I turned into the driveway to size up our options - and watch our little visitor a little more closely.

Somehow, he slipped away in an unknown direction, and we neither smelled nor saw him again as we dashed from the car to the door....and safety of the house.

Visitors are always welcome.

S'far, s'good

Woke up a little after six this morning and realized the cheek/eye-spasm-thing had finally abated.

Yea!

Couldn't get back to sleep, but that's OK. The trade-offs for being sleepy the rest of the day are fair enough.

"What trade-offs?" you ask.

Well - the weather is sufficiently cooler and less humid (and will remain so for the next five to six days or so); we had a smattering of rain yesterday, which was a blessing; and I go home in less than seven hours! See...all good!

Even better, I was witness to a lone Canada goose (the first in a LONG time) honk his arrival and land in the field next to Gram's building not more than an hour ago. Usually, this field is constantly dotted with pairs (or flocks) of geese throughout the spring, summer, and fall, but this year the weather has conspired to keep them away.

I always feel absolutely forlorn for the solo geese, though, never knowing if they're separated from their flock or their mate, or just hoping to hook up with a new group. When they arrive and find the field utterly empty, my heart aches for them with their discovery of being alone.

This fellow seems alright with it, though, and has settled in for a well-deserved rest. Currently, he is preening and relaxing in the wide open expanse of green -- probably very happy for the relative quiet and a chance to rest his wings.

Believe me, my feathered friend, I know that feeling well. Enjoy!

Just a feeling

Yes, the day is beginning breezy. Sunny and breezy. However, it will become blisteringly hot once again, and the AC unit nearly melted by the end of the day yesterday, so today we'll be putting out fires I'm sure! Admittedly the temperature will be an improvement over Monday (due to less humidity), but hot is hot, darn-it-all!!!!.

At the risk of repeating myself (for those who may recall), I am a hot weather pansy - I detest it! Give me that sweet spot in the weather window of temps from the upper forties to no more than 70-72*....MAX!

Yesterday was humid and horrible. Well into the 90s and abominable; and even though it seems pleasant for the moment, for some reason....today has all the earmarks of a bad day.

I don't know why. I can't explain it, but it feels off. Wrong. Dreadful.

Oooo!! The word I want is 'foreboding.'

[insert ominous music here]

I cleaned out the filters in the unit, vacuuming and rinsing them, then vacuumed the floor to eliminate the chance for immediate re-fur-ing. Moved the unit closer to the vent in the window to reduce the source of heat dispersing in the main room.

See, it is an air conditioner - a cooling unit - but it generates A LOT of heat doing the cooling thing, and all of that heat is STILL IN THE HOUSE, just concentrated closer to the venting window and the furniture in that area, and by the end of the day the room is only cool directly in front of the AC unit, and it appears as though I am shoveling dollars out the door to the electric company to cool the AC! It's ridiculous!

So, despite the obvious report of the current temp outdoors (81*F, indoors 76*), I am opting to run the attic fan until the heat becomes a tad more oppressive. The lovely little breeze has me hopeful, and had I a screen door on the front of the house, we would be treated to a wonderful full-on, robust cooling wind right now.

"Well then, Beth" what is so dreadful? Why the doom saying?" I hear you wondering.

I dunno....I said I couldn't explain it. I can't put my finger on it. The feeling is just there.

Made the stupid mistake of not cementing up the entryway to the former chipmunk condo once the activity died down, and now....that's right....you guessed it - we have another one or two inhabitants! Caught sight of at least one of them entering the hole by s-q-u-e-e-z-i-n-g in around the 4"x4" and bricks piled up in front of the gap. CRAP!

Brian has set three rat traps all around the perimeter of the opening and we have since seen two chipmunks approach several times but not enter. But since I am not into keeping vigil every minute all day long, I don't know if they've figured out a way past the gauntlet.

I am seriously considering just cementing the hole right now -- and I would, but I am afraid to pick up or move the traps for fear of setting them off and hurting myself in the process. So, I will do the cement-y deed when Bud gets home from work.

Found a cicada skin on the front stoop. It reminded me of years ago when the boys and I would head outdoors to scour the trees and bushes to find cocoons and abandoned critter skins. They are always neat to see and examine. Nature is cool!

Noticed the Butterfly Bush I have growing in the wrong spot (not enough sun) was actually more bush-like this year, even after blossoming. So there may be hope for it once I move it. However, also noticed (with some alarm), that many of the healthy (finally upright) stems were stripped of their leaves! This has never happened before. So I looked it over but could see nothing (from inside the house).

Several moments later, as I was peering out the window to spy on the chipmunk debacle/progress, I spotted three caterpillars partying down on two branches of the bush which still had foliage. Argh!

I grabbed a canister of insect killer and went to the aid of my beautiful bush only to find nine caterpillars overall having a grand time. NINE! I thought three was bad enough.

Needless to say, I am keeping a closer watch on the plant over the coming days - with my spray in my hand!

Had two rejection responses in my inbox from employment ads I had submitted to over three weeks ago. I guess no news is better than bad news, eh? It wrecked my day completely yesterday - the weather sh*t was simply frosting on a cow dung cake.

I was hesitant to open email today; not looking forward to more of the same. But, I guess it's par for the course.

Speaking of which, I really should get back to that job-hunting grind so that I can eventually get back to the quilting. More of whatever another time.

Stay cool.

Something somewhere has died

Could be my spirit, but given the smell outside, I'm fairly certain it's something else completely.

Although.......maybe I shouldn't be so quick to discount the possibility of an old, decaying spirit, eh?

Perhaps we trapped a critter in the confines of the porch slabs - entombing it and bringing about the end, but the smell really grows strongest away from the stoop, so thank you, Lord, for small favors (and I mean that most sincerely). We just can't open up the windows along the front for ventilation until WELL after dark and the heat of the day has abated almost entirely.

Woof!

I spent yesterday roaming from task to task in the house, getting the AC started much earlier in the day than usual - the humidity was atrocious, and I figured why wait and have to spend $ filtering and cooling extra heat and mugginess before the costly little AC unit can begin cooling the house off?

I also did a load of laundry and sorted through some papers.

Filed a few things (very few) and pitched several more.

Dishes; cleaned and cut veggies; made omelets for our breakfast; read most of a magazine, and; fretted over the quilting options on a current project. Today, I have things I must complete - laundry, for one, and nagging the boys into changing their sheets.

I am holding off on starting up the AC process (and it is growing stickier by the second), I want Karl good and practiced so that he can do it in my absence without the confusion and errors of last week.

Even though the temperature and humidity are swiftly rising already this morning, there is the slightest cool breeze blowing in the library window, and across my face and arms. Fleeting reprieves from the otherwise still stickiness which will grip the day. I am patiently waiting for Karl to rise and practice. Really. Very patiently.

The weather weenies have all promised uncomfortably hot, unrelenting ick for the coming three to four days, without much chance for relief at night, so we will have one heck of an enormous bill from the robber barons (AKA the electric company) for a second month! Ugh!

Time to stand up and walk away from this keyboard for a bit. More later. Stay cool, people!

Awe, crap!

Yesterday, I awoke to the sound in the wall. It stopped as soon as I tugged on the unfinished wiring and knocked and thumped for a bit on the wall - chasing the abating noise as the fuzzy little intruder fled.

Then, last night, after a friend departed, I happened to look down to my right as I climbed the only step up to the front door, and there it was. Evidence of space poaching! A new pile of excavated sand all over the stair, which hadn't been there earlier in the day!

The little rat b*stards were carving another entry into the space beneath the stoop - which means this is how they managed to begin the gnawing in the wall again!

COME ON!!

Brian banged a metal can into the new opening and then piled loose bricks firmly against the area until we can manage to figure out another proper solution for this side of the stoop. A small live trap will be baited and set into place at the original entry point, with additional rat traps set up within to catch the marauding varmints as they think to leave.

That's right, we're going to uncork the original hole to see what shows itself. By now, those little mongrels that thought to enter and set up residence in the vacated property will be looking for some daylight, water, and food supplies...and I aim to eradicate me a few critters.

[twisting non-existant mustache like Simon LaGree]

[mine is an evil laugh]

Not again

Woke up to the sound of gnawing in the wall.

Yes! That wall, and YES....that sort of gnawing!

Since it isn't possible that one was able to gain entrance to the under-stoop area over the past week and one half, it stands to reason there was...scratch that....there are an unknown number of the lil furry cretons still holed up inside! Now the question is how to get it/them out without allowing any new intruders in?

Is that possible?

I'm thinking about three or four new traps - additional traps - placed all around the hole, to get anybody exiting and/or entering.

Snappity, snap, snap....gone!

Doggone it!

Oh. By the way...

Technically, we are holding at number nine.

However, we did catch number ten yesterday, but since it somehow managed to get it's head stuck in the trap (under the whacking bar the way it's supposed to work), but kept breathing and moving around - trying to free itself - we decided to set it free, so long as it could hold its own head up and walk straight.

Bud released it from the trap and threw it into the neighbor's backyard; we haven't seen it since.

We are waiting for a knock at the door, though.

^x.x^

'Nuff said.

Well, well....

Number eight did not get away!

It's been a busy day, to be sure, and seeing their movements and understanding how they are trying to gain entrance has helped with the positioning of the trap for optimum chipmunk dastardliness. At least, I think that's what this is.

Seems cruel, but I cannot handle any more destruction to the house, nor can I manage any more repair type expenses. Their 'antics' in the wall is almost more than I can bear some days, so this is me getting even.

The gloves are off, baby, and I intend to win this battle, doggone it!

Number 7

Although, somehow, this little bugger also managed to free himself from the trap (in spite of having its head and most of its appendages stuck within the crossbar) and crawl off a little distance before Brian caught him to finish the job....sort of.

Beginning to wonder if these traps lose a lot of their doin'-in-the-critter-power after several uses? That should be a warning on the package:

"Good for five kills, then power degrades. Maiming will follow for approximately four to five additional victims, after which serious wounds to trapped or injured rodents will result in an uprising. Please pack an emergency kit and be prepared to evacuate should you decide to continue use of trap beyond ten critters."

Number seven was a bit Rambo-esque. [ominous music]

Ugh

The chipmunk problem still persists.

Huh. Did I really need the word "still" in that sentence?

Anyhow, the little rats (sorry, Barb) are still an issue. Was more concerned about what (or WHO) might enter the dwelling if we took away the barricade - thinking we might be able to entice the incumbent squatters out into the light of day, thus emptying the area under the porch (and in the front wall) - but then became worried over who (or better yet, how many who's) would trespass into the vacated area if left open for any amount of time.

Turns out that (latter part) wasn't an incorrect assumption...or was it?

I don't know any more!!

Can't tell if those we catch burrowing either in or out are longtime, current residents, or very industrious newbies. ARGH! And it's getting to the point where I just think we need to cement it up and perform last rights (Egyptian-style) over those who are not long for this world. I do know it may mean tolerating (and suffering through) some very nasty decaying odors for an amount of time this summer, but I am just about to that very point.

I'm just saying.

Jean and Barb brought by some peanuts in shells to use as bait, tying one to the trap and making it a certainty to catch another little critter or two....right?

Well, you would think so, but we would all be wrong.

The little boogers took the whole peanut somehow, springing the trap AND getting away cleanly!

Ugh.

Number six

Number six did not go quietly.

It must have been scurrying across the trap lengthwise when it set off the trigger and....whap! Brian ended up having to put it out of its misery because the commando crawl (with the trap in tow) was too hard to watch. Just knowing it was out there, alive and suffering, was too much to bear.

About ready to uncork the opening for the remainder of the day to see what may exit the den under my stoop. By evening I am thinking we will seal the hole up in a more permanent (and cement-like) way. Until then, it's carnage city.

Now serving number seven!

Five! Count 'em...FIVE!

Five less chipmunks in my walls and under my stoop....and that's the way I like it.

Because I blocked the opening, it is impossible to tell if there are any more ready to try and see the light of day once again. I haven't heard the scratching and gnawing sounds I have become accustomed to around 5:30 every morning, so I wonder if we have managed to eradicate the colony in its entirety.

Today's victim had been sniffing around the opening for the past two days, and while he would dart into the hole, he never stayed more than a few seconds. When we frightened him by looking out the window, he would run for cover into the hostas and weeds....and not back into the hole - so I believe we 'offed' a stranger to the kingdom.

My fear is in unblocking the opening to their warren; allowing any others remaining inside to venture out and meet their doom. If I open it up to exiting critters, what more would I be inviting? I have already seen how quickly another would be willing to take up residence!

No thank you!

Chipmunk-icide was not the only activity today. Jean stopped by on her way home to take a morning stroll around the neighborhood. She dropped of another NYC-bound daughter at Metro Airport early in the morning, so we made plans to walk a bit in the coolest part of the day before she headed the rest of the way home.

After a good gab and some giggles, she very kindly drove Bud to work on her way home, and I continued to work on the quilt throughout the heat of the day. Thank you, Jean, it was a nice break!

Tomorrow should find me piecing together the back and then stretching the beast! I'll keep you posted in the quilting blog.