Swedish proverb: God gives every bird his worm, but He does not throw it into the nest.
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It's 7:45 PM, and still no action on the baby front. They've had three ultrasounds, and swear they don't know whether it's a boy or girl. Also no printouts. When asked if they have any favorite names, they say no, they figure they have plenty of time to wait for the baby to name itself.
I think they just don't want any "help" or opinions. That's ok with me.
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Remember when my neighbor George said there were raccoons living in the car buried in my back bank? Well, I'm not so sure that they're really raccoons.
George calls the daffodils in his front yard "tulips". He calls the day lilies in the back "daffodils". He started ripping out a vine climbing one of my trees, describing it as "an ugly weed". It's wisteria. He has caribou horns over his shed door, that he described as "moose". He calls painted turtles "snapping turtles". I think George is a 70+ city boy.
So heaven only knows what's living in the vehicle. Could be groundhogs (a.k.a. woodchucks or marmots), or opossums, but I'm beginning to doubt that it's raccoons. That's fine with me. Raccoons are smart and can be fun to watch, but they're smart enough to be destructive, too. I prefer that they stay in wilder areas.
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3 comments:
ugh! I can't believe he man-handled the wisteria!
I'm glad it's not raccoons because in the Season 7 version of House, a woman gets very ill after being exposed to raccoon poop.
Yeah. I did a post on that after listening to a speaker from the national zoo at a Mensa gathering. For details on what it is that raccoons carry, see http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2008/05/1797-home-again-and-leery-of-raccoons.html - toward the end of the post.
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