What? Only two of them? As a rule, when I pull into the CrazyStable driveway, there are at least 3 of these beady-eyed vermin zooming along the lattice top of our fence, sprinting across the garage roof, or (with growing boldness) popping out of the garbage can with a faceful of discarded carbohydrates. Sometimes there are 4 of them--Bagel and his clan are clearly proliferating, attracted by the unbeatable triad of shelter inside our walls, ample food in the compost and trash, and a glorious skyway in the Ent (seen at left above).
I had a "duh" moment as two of them were taking turns pillaging the garbage bags: We really need to put tight-fitting lids on those cans. Trouble is, garbage-can lids don't last very long in the city; the sanitation guys toss them about like Frisbees, the wind carries them away, cars run over them. There are tricks like punching holes in them and lashing them to the can handles, but they don't work very well. We could just leave the lids off when we put it out curbside, I suppose; I just know that I'm fed up, dammit, with providing these scavengers with their rich buffet. Did I mention that they like sipping out of milk and juice boxes? The other day, one of them deposited a gnawed-on juice pack, straw still inserted, on the front steps. The Child has observed Bagel sitting up in the Ent's branches with a chocolate milk box in his grasp. This shot appears to show normal, cute, nut-burying activity--but don't be fooled.
See that knowing look in his eye? What he knows is that our filling the laundry-room ceiling-holes with steel wool and aluminum foil has not deterred him in the slightest. Which means I have lost my prime baked-goods-cooling area on top of the washing machine; I've seen him stick his head out of the hole, and if I ever catch him lowering himself like a ninja to steal cookies, the resulting confrontation will be like Elmer Fudd vs. Bugs as re-imagined by Sam Peckinpah.
Speaking of baking, the lussekatter made last night (still technically Santa Lucia day!) came out gorgeous, and were tender and fluffy inside. Yeast and I have a checkered history together, but this time all was serendipitous. Next time I'm making gingerbread squirrels so I can bite the heads off--hard.