We had a family cookout yesterday afternoon, a late birthday party for The Husband. Hamburgers, hot dogs, birthday cake. All of our children and grandchildren (except for The Grandson) were here. Son #1 brought his guitar, and we serenaded the neighbors. It was a good finish to an otherwise moderately crappy weekend.
Saturday morning, we went to a graveside funeral service for The Husband's aunt, Nanny's last surviving sibling. It was cold and windy, and a light drizzle started to fall just as the service concluded. The aunt's children, who have acted like shits toward one another all their lives, are scrapping with one another over their mother's possessions. I was glad for the drizzle, for it gave us an escape from post-funeral "he said/she said" chatter.
We came home from the funeral, changed clothes, and went to Home Depot to return 5 boxes of flooring left over from our flooring project. I had called Home Depot earlier in the week to see if we could return it. We had bought the flooring in pallets, not in individual boxes, and I was concerned that they might not take back the leftovers. But the store said sure, just bring the invoice. And we did. Unloaded the heavy boxes in the rain and hauled them in the store. And they wouldn't take it back. I was so mad.
By the time we came home again, it was mid-afternoon. I puttered around, doing a few pre-cookout chores, then settled down on the porch to read for a while. About 6:30, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and looked up just in time to see a furry tail disappear behind the compost bin. In a minute, a big, fat groundhog came out and began nosing around in the back yard.
I eased out of my chair and sneaked into the house, where The Husband was playing his ukulele along with a youtube video. I said, "THE GROUNDHOG IS IN THE BACK YARD. WIDE OPEN!" He put the ukulele down and went to get the rifle. I said, "Go around the front and sneak up on him from the side of the house," and I went to watch from the living room window as The Husband slipped out the front door.
The groundhog heard him coming and ran toward the woods, but he stopped before he got there. When I did not hear a shot, I went out to the porch. The Husband was sneaking around the side yard, looking in the wrong direction. As I was waving, trying to get Elmer Fudd's attention, the groundhog slipped into the brush at the edge of the gulley and disappeared. We did not see him again.
I said, "We ought to bait the trap." The Husband sliced an apple and set the trap, and went back to his ukulele.
Sunday morning, when I went out to the porch with my coffee and my book, I peered through the screen and saw that there was something in the trap.
A 'possum. Dang. We should've sprung the trap before dark.
When The Husband got up, he opened the cage. The 'possum hissed, but wouldn't come out. The Husband had to DUMP the possum out of the cage, but it just froze and wouldn't run off until The Husband poked it with a stick.
I have baited the trap again. If I don't catch anything today, remind me to spring it before night, because The Husband won't want to deal with a possum first thing tomorrow morning. :)
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