Dudes...Hallowe'en is, like, so over.
Maybe that's the message from Bagel the Squirrel (or perhaps his nephew Pepito). Instead of his usual carbohydrate offerings from the neighbors' trash (gnawed Jamaican meat patties are a current fave), we have this corpse from my compost heap. This poor little veggie has gone from Martha Stewart to Jack Skellington in the blink of a month, hasn't he?
I took it as a squirrelly reminder that we have no Christmas decorations up on the house yet. We don't do the whole Snoopy's Doghouse/Dyker Heights madness, but we do put up a pretty string of "drip" lights on the scruffy porch and, sometimes, electric candles in the windows (although I have to duct-tape them to our narrow sills, and then the cats blunder into them). I've been distracted with getting my Prospect Park calendar printed. It is now in hand and shipping; it's glossy and lovely and, on this dreary day, brings me back to the blissful hours I spent in the park this year. If you haven't done so, take a look; it would make a great gift (although Bagel and Pepito would rather have more old gourds, thanks). It will also help explain why we're so easily lured away and distracted from our renovation projects; we can always walk across the street and play in the park!