One of the squirrels that dines in our backyard has learned that it can leap from the ground to the peanut wreath for a snack. I thought maybe I'd placate it when I spilled a few (okay, a dozen) peanuts into the snow when I filled the feeders yesterday but I didn't. The little thief only spends a few seconds on the wreath, just long enough to grab a nut, and then it sits on the snow and eats it while the wreath swings wildly over its head. I don't think there's any way to keep it from doing it now that it has figured out how to get the peanuts. Tsk.March 2--Kano Eino, One Hundred Boys. "Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine." Willard said, "Stay in line, boys." What had been an orderly row of students writhed and twisted on itself and collapsed into an indeterminate scrum of children. All he had to do was count them. First he'd told them to count off but they had all yelled "one!" at the same time and then dissolved into laughter. Next he had lined them up but he couldn't count them fast enough before order turned to chaos. He was responsible for teaching the little heathens but he also needed to know he had the right number of boys. One hundred was too many. Everyone agreed that was too many but times were tough and budgets were tight so he had one hundred, he thought he did anyway. It seemed like he had that many but he needed to make sure. Maybe if he grouped them in tens... maybe if he tied them together... maybe if he painted a number on them as they filed past.
Time to swamp out the bathroom, put out fresh towels, tidy up a bit, and zoom the vacuum around. Hey, I have to chase the dirt around here every once in a while or the Health Dept. will come calling. Daddy, Mama, and Lucy are coming for supper tonight and we finally get to cut the pies. I'd better go buy some vanilla ice cream.
--Barbara
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