Squirrels are not everbody's cup of tea, especially when they find their way into the attic, but I find them fascinating to watch outdoors. Especially in the snow. A bold and very large red squirrel once stole a cookie from my brown bag lunch as I picnicked on Bascom Hill at the University of Wisconsin-Madison about 18 years ago! I wisely chose not to pursue the culprit. The family story goes that my maternal Great Grandmother "Myrtle" had a pet squirrel as a girl.
Another quiet, dark, foggy morning with a bit of rain here in Lower Michigan today. Snow would be nice, but I'm not complaining. The delivery of our new Sears Craftsman snowblower is scheduled for later this afternoon, and I finally found our Nordic/cross-country skiing boots two evenings ago, so we are probably now jinxed and destined to have a snowless winter this (El Nino) year.
In any case, I am enjoying another mug of coffee with the cats nearby following the Young Master's breakfast before I dress, order a Christmas centerpiece for my sister, and wrap a few gifts before the Grand Duchess returns home. This sticky f-key on my keyboard is driving me to distraction!
I've also recently sent my Move 2 orders to Greg Horne in Australia, who is umpiring the 'Raid On Fickmuhlen' Christmas play-by-email game between Ross MacFarlane in Nova Scotia and myself. I would, of course, share my plans for the battle here, but there may be spies everywhere, in the form of a washer woman, or a serving wench at The Elector's Arms tavern -- where the good General von Tschatschke is enjoying a second tankard of ale at the moment -- who will transmit my intentions to the other side. The walls have ears you know.