The Husband and The Grandson have left for work, and I am sitting here on the porch, looking out over the back yard, wondering why I cannot catch the #@)#! mole that's digging up the yard. In one area, there are hills - not just trails, but HILLS - of loose dirt 8" high. I read somewhere that these might be cavities where moles give birth (mole maternity wards?). If this is true, the whole back yard is going to collapse one day, when all of these babies start digging. I have set three traps; none of them have been sprung, yet I am not seeing any new raised tunnels (I stomped down all I could find).
Granddaughter #1 went back to college Friday. The day before she was supposed to leave, some part of her car broke. She'd already packed her car with as much of her stuff as it would hold. Her family was to follow her with more stuff and help her get settled. The best part was that they intended to take Roscoe with them, and we would not have to babysit his dumb ass. When the car broke, all of that changed. Mom and the girls hit the road to the college Friday morning, and Dad stayed behind to fix the car. Roscoe stayed behind, too. Fortunately, Dad was able to get the car back on the road by Friday evening, and he headed to college with the rest of #1's stuff.
This will be her last semester of undergraduate school. She is in the process of applying to veterinary schools.
This morning, I am hearing a bird call that I *thought* might be a turkey. It's not the "gobble" sound; it's more like a little dog with a high-pitched bark. Arf, arf, arf. I fired up my bird-call app, and it turns out that what I'm hearing is a yellow-bellied cuckoo. Who'd'a thunk it?