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Showing posts from December, 2013

Squirrel! Part 3: Attack of the Squirrel!

Tuesday night, I heard the sound I've grown to dread: scratching above G's ceiling. Exasperated, I thought, "After sealing the breech, we trapped the thing in there?!" But this scratching didn't sound as close. It sounded more like it was outside. Upon investigation, there was indeed a squirrel trying to dig through the wooden patch. I clapped my hands - which hurt - and flailed my arms - which probably looked silly. I had to run it off three times before it disappeared for the night. Then came early Wednesday morning. G reported scratching above her room. I assumed the rascal had returned. Upon inspection outside, the doom became clear: not only had the squirrel from the night before returned but also there appeared to be one still in the attic trying to escape!

Squirrel! Part 2: Well, Swell

Ever fallen from a ladder? It's a surreal experience. After spending time making certain the ladder was on solid ground outside my house, I carefully ascended it while confirming balance and stability. When I reached two steps from the yellow top of the six-footer, I stabilized myself further and began shooting hornet spray into an opening just beneath our townhome's roof. Sufficiently saturating the opening and hopefully interior of the breech where the evil squirrel had taken up residence, I began to make my decent. Then, it happened. The ladder was on the corner of my neighbor's stoop. It must've shifted just enough to tilt to the side. Maybe it slipped off the stoop. I didn't process those details. In a split second, I knew there was no stabilizing the ladder nor could I hold onto the awning over my neighbor's door. Whether the words came out of my mouth, I at least thought, "Lord, help!" In slow motion, I fell. So many people say similar inc

Squirrel!

I have a new hatred for squirrels. For the past couple weeks, scratching in the attic above Georgia's room was suspected as belonging to a squirrel. Confirmation came when I caught the little punk coming out of a breech in the upper right corner of the roof near the downspout. At first, I assumed he'd move on from our banging on walls with fists and drumsticks. But the random scratching continued.