The sun is done

We are back to steady rain, now, and it should continue through June. You can't count on sunshine for any given day until after the 7th of July, but the rain is warmer now. Trees are blooming, daffodils are cheering and our un-pruned roses are leafing out already. Fool that I am, I didn't wear a raincoat to work because it wasn't raining when I left. Wise woman that I am, I keep an umbrella at the office. It was raining cats and dogs when I left work. Really. I stepped in a poodle. (booo) Have to remember to take the umbrella back today.

The sap is rising, and all living things are getting restless. Yearling cats and possums are slinking around, trying to find their own territory now that mom has kicked them out to make room for this year's litter.

For my friends in Oz, let me say that American possums are not the pretty, fluffy, big-eyed creatures you know as possums. American possums look like giant marsupial rats. Naked pink tail, beady eyes, naked pink claw-like feet, tiny ears, and horrible crooked, pointy teeth. Go ahead, imagine a 15 pound grey rat with yellow teeth hunkered up in the corner of your porch and hissing at you. Wouldn't you run for the broom? Well, I run for the broom, because it's not leagal to use the shotgun, by if I thought I could get away with it, I just might take out one of those nasty, verminous, cat-killers. Yes, they are God's creatures, too, and life is sacred, but I am a human, and I, by God, exert some control over my environment when I can, and my environment is not gonna be overrun with possums! I can't shhot 'em, but I CAN make them feel unwelcome! A smack in the face with a broom makaes just about anyone feel unwelcome. Of course, the neighbors and local dog-walkers may wonder about me beating through the bushes with a broom , wearing a bathrobe and slippers in the pouring rain, and cursing, but at least the neighbors don't take me for granted, and the dogs no longer crap on our lawn. And the possums do NOT feel welcome.

And it's almost the season for raccoonus interruptus, too. I'd better stockpile a few missles for discouraging treetop romancing. And maybe I should get one of those plastic atlatl things they sell at the pet store for throwing dog balls. Hmm - for throwing balls for dogs. Anyhow, if I'm going to be throwing rocks, it's just as well that I have a puny arm because I might accidentally hit the neighbor's house, but if I had one of those atlatls, I could throw pinecones and actually hit something. Like a pair of raccoons in flagrante delecto. It bears consideration.