A raccoon came through last night to eat in peace. I switched the light on for a second and then off and left it that way.
The squirrels are like stimulant driven engineers. It didn't take them long to disarm the baffle I installed. Yesterday I went out and put it back up, reenforcing it with duct tape. They made a racket this morning trying to defeat it, but were ultimately repelled. They'll be back.
There are four of them out there now. They seem to live together. Chasing each other playfully.
Last night, while delivering spinach and artichoke dip and some sort of decadent chocolate brownie sundae at 11 PM, a young man called me through the app. No one does that. He had what sounded like a Mexican accent. He seemed shy, spoke slowly and softly. Asked, "Sir, are you the driver?" I assured him I was indeed. He asked very politely if I could leave the food on the stairs on the left side of the house and not the right. Apparently other drivers get it consistently wrong.
I made him a blood promise that I would do exactly that or die in the attempt. I knew he was feeding his love dessert and wanting things to go right. I could see the soft light of the room in my mind's eye, feel the quiet peace of love.
I walked the food to the top of the staircase on the left side of the house and left it, very quietly, outside the door. There was a sacred feeling of ceremony.
When I got back to the car, I called to let him know the food was there, not wanting him to wait too long and bring her an offering of cold dip.
She answered. She too was polite and possibly Mexican. There was something more formal, less humble, in her tone. I imagined a dark eyed princess wearing a sparkling tiara. She said her boyfriend had gone down to get the food.
I wish I had lined the staircase with candles.
The squirrels are like stimulant driven engineers. It didn't take them long to disarm the baffle I installed. Yesterday I went out and put it back up, reenforcing it with duct tape. They made a racket this morning trying to defeat it, but were ultimately repelled. They'll be back.
There are four of them out there now. They seem to live together. Chasing each other playfully.
Last night, while delivering spinach and artichoke dip and some sort of decadent chocolate brownie sundae at 11 PM, a young man called me through the app. No one does that. He had what sounded like a Mexican accent. He seemed shy, spoke slowly and softly. Asked, "Sir, are you the driver?" I assured him I was indeed. He asked very politely if I could leave the food on the stairs on the left side of the house and not the right. Apparently other drivers get it consistently wrong.
I made him a blood promise that I would do exactly that or die in the attempt. I knew he was feeding his love dessert and wanting things to go right. I could see the soft light of the room in my mind's eye, feel the quiet peace of love.
I walked the food to the top of the staircase on the left side of the house and left it, very quietly, outside the door. There was a sacred feeling of ceremony.
When I got back to the car, I called to let him know the food was there, not wanting him to wait too long and bring her an offering of cold dip.
She answered. She too was polite and possibly Mexican. There was something more formal, less humble, in her tone. I imagined a dark eyed princess wearing a sparkling tiara. She said her boyfriend had gone down to get the food.
I wish I had lined the staircase with candles.
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