The Mister is on a quick work trip to Mexico at the moment. I find these opportunities to be very "when the cat's away the mice will play" moments. Even though I have plenty of responsibility of my own, something about him not being here to keep me acting like a reasonable adult has lead to me resolving to pull some night-owl design (aka staying up past 3am to doodle instead of keeping normal adult hours... which is, let's be honest, when I do my best work), and sleep in like crazy tomorrow, and also I'm making a batch of cookies.
Said cookies will be gone by the time he gets home tomorrow night. I have no shame about this.
Except we're out of milk. So you better believe I just paused the writing of the blog post and went to the gas station to get a gallon of moo juice. Did I mention that earlier today I thought "I should see what happens if I put my hair in foam rollers."? No? Because this is apparently what happens.
the derpiest photo of myself on the internet. so far.
Yep. I would suspect though, that a chick in her PJs with half a permed-head, is probably typical clientele for the Speedway this late at night. (edit from after when I went: yeah, I was not the weirdest looking person in there by far.)
Meanwhile, the groundhog is back. Remember when I blogged about that little fuzzy jerk last year? Okay so we trapped him, and relocated him. And I thought "ha. I win. That's the end of that."
Then I looked out the kitchen window a few weeks ago to see another groundhog pulling a pea-plant out of my beloved garden by it's roots. I rage-faced about that long enough to set another trap. Caught and evicted him, and I thought "ha. I win. That's the end of that."
I wash my hands of this tom-foolery.
Sooooo I reset the trap.
This morning I let the dogs out before I went to work. I open the office at this job, so it was early. The sun had just finished coming up over the trees, I had been awake for only the mere 28 seconds it takes to roll out of bed and open the back door for the dogs, and I was wearing only boxers and an oversize t-shirt. I was not wearing a bra, socks, shoes, or glasses, but I did still manage to fuzzily see that Addie's white-tipped tail shot up into the air as she trotted faster than her usual lumber-trot toward the wrong corner of the yard. I had to break-neck run out into the yard to catch Addie, and yet again sling all of her 50 pounds over my shoulder to carry her, squirming and wiggling* away from the very angry, very snarly raccoon. (full grown and pissed. not like last year's cutie patootie little one. or maybe the same one all grown up?) Thankfully in these situations, Mac is more than happy to just go back inside the house and pretend that nothing is out of the ordinary. Because 5:30AM is too early for him, too.
Really, any time of day is too early for me to deal with this kind of crap.
For lack of any better ideas (as my brain was not yet functioning), I just opened the trap and let the nasty dude run off over the fence. Ugh.
I know that logically, this is three separate groundhogs and a racoon I'm dealing with. But it just makes me think of this:
Anyone remember this cartoon? Been stuck in my head all day.
Do you have a garden?
How do you keep it safe from varmints?
(we've done fencing, the liquid fence spray, mothballs, and a ring of cat crap -thanks Bubba- around the perimeter. So far, no dice.)
Do you cohabitate? What do you do when you're left to your own devices in your home?
*98% of the time, Little Miss Addie Pants looks like this:
Oh yes, she's figured out the bed now. God help us.the remaining 2% of her time is split between eating foods, and getting more excited than Honey-Boo-Boo on go-go juice over a raccoon.
Seriously though: Someone adopt this puppy. She needs a forever home without another dog so she can monopolize the bed properly. Mac and her share poorly (aka they try to covertly kick each other off the sides)