The nerve of the nature!

Squirrels are such assholes.

Worth every penny.

Watching squirrels try to break into the new bird feeder is endlessly entertaining. They try so hard.

Oh hey, what's that?

Let's get a little closer . . .

I think I could reach if I just . . .

. . . streeeeeetttttttchhh . . . .

Damn it. Regroup!

We're also getting birds at the feeder, which is really exciting. In other unexpected birding news, dumping uncomposted leaves all over these beds has resulted in the birds foraging here like CRAZY. I've never seen so many feeding in the yard before. They have zero interest in my native plants; it turns out they just want store-bought birdseed and the bugs hiding under non-native tree leaves. Go figure.

I still can't identify any of them, either. Greg will ask, "What's that one?" and I'll reply, "A cute little brown one."

On nature

I awoke one Saturday morning and opened the curtains to greet the day. We settled back in bed with our coffee and watched the birds flying by and the squirrels frolicking on the lawn. One leaped onto the planter! So cute! He adorably reached into the planter with his little rat-hands and PLUCKED A STRAWBERRY OFF THE VINE.

Son of a bitch.

I ran out into the yard in my underwear and cursed that tiny animal out. He retreated to the fence where, I swear to god, he made a big show of eating my strawberry. Mmmm, so good! So juicy! Wouldn't you like one? Too bad it's in my belly and also covered in squirrel disease.

I know I got my yard certified by the Audubon Society and I love animals and all that, but lately I've had it with nature. Some critter recently ate every single blueberry on both bushes. The crows, in addition to being noisy as hell, like to divebomb me when I'm weeding. I keep finding neighborhood cats lurking in the back, which would be fine if they would eat the crows (circle of life and all that); instead, they just poop in my beds. My yard is not a goddamn gas station, guys. You can't just use the restroom and leave.

The boy found water pellet rifles online and offered to try his hand at controlling the crows. I won't let him . . . yet. Because last night I successfully harvested a bowl of strawberries and they tasted like victory.

Score one: Heather.