I started today with a simple plan: yard work.
Clean things up. Fix a few things. Maybe even feel a little productive for once.
(🐿️ If she doesn’t lift her head from that iPad soon, we’re installing a posture alarm. Don’t test us.)
There’s an old wooden martin birdhouse in our yard that the squirrels claimed years ago. It originally belonged to my parents, so I’ve held onto it, but between the weather, the wind, and some very determined chewing, it has slowly turned me into what can only be described as a… slum landlord.
It was leaning.
It was worn.
And honestly, it looked like one good wind gust away from disappearing entirely.
So today was the day.
I was finally going to swap it out with a new metal martin house and give the squirrels something a little more… up to code.
That metal house has its own story. It came from our previous neighbors, who have both since passed. It’s something we’ve held onto, something we care about, and something we want to take care of just as much.
And then~
A baby squirrel jumped out.
Right into the middle of everything.
And my dog Ivey almost got it.
Everything stopped.
Chris grabbed gloves and gently placed the baby back inside that very questionable, falling-apart house… while I rushed the dogs inside, trying to calm the chaos.
(🐿️ SQUIRREL COMMITTEE EMERGENCY TRANSMISSION)
(🐿️1: She almost replaced our entire housing complex today.)
(🐿️2: WITHOUT A PERMIT.)
(🐿️3: And without snacks.)
(🐿️1: Focus. A baby fell out.)
(🐿️4: He didn’t fall. He was conducting a surprise inspection.)
(🐿️2: He is three inches tall and shaped like a potato. He was not inspecting anything.)
(🐿️3: Ivey tried to eat him.)
(🐿️4: She was greeting him enthusiastically.)
(🐿️1: We need a safety plan. A relocation plan. A renovation plan. A snack plan.)
(🐿️2: Why are snacks always part of the plan?)
(🐿️3: Because morale matters.)
(🐿️4: Also, she called our house “falling apart.”)
(🐿️1: It IS falling apart.)
(🐿️4: It’s VINTAGE.)
(🐿️2: It’s a hazard.)
(🐿️3: It’s home.)
(🐿️ ALL: We accept the temporary fence.)
(🐿️1: But we reserve the right to file complaints.)
(🐿️2: And requests.)
(🐿️3: And snack orders.)
(🐿️4: And emotional support walnuts.)
(🐿️ END OF TRANSMISSION)
Needless to say, the project changed directions immediately.
We are no longer replacing the house.
We are now… renovating.
I set up a temporary fence (the one I usually take camping for the grandkids and the dogs) around the area to keep everyone safe—for now.
The plan is to slowly move the setup to a safer spot in the yard, fence it off properly, and let the squirrels keep their home while we build them a new one that isn’t one strong breeze away from collapse.
The dogs still get their yard.
The squirrels still get their home.
And I get to redeem myself from my slum landlord status.
We’ll also be adding a little water dish for them—and honestly, with all the walnut trees out back, I think they’ll be just fine.
It wasn’t the yard work day I planned.
But it turned into something a little more meaningful.
A little more thoughtful.
And a reminder that sometimes, right in the middle of trying to “fix” things…
life asks you to slow down and take care of something smaller first.
Moments like this always find their way into my stories… even when I don’t realize it right away.
💛 And speaking of stories, our newest adventure, The Stormy Day, is now available on Amazon. 💛
(🐿️ We approve this message. Also, we would like to request a porch light, a welcome mat, and possibly a tiny mailbox.)
So… it looks like I’ll be evicting the gnomes and giving the squirrels their belongings.
Pretty sure that’s illegal in at least three imaginary jurisdictions, so I’ll need to find a way to sweeten their deal to keep everyone happy.
(🐿️2: We expect a formal notice of gnome displacement. Preferably handwritten. Preferably with walnuts.)
(🐿️4: Please note: the gnomes knew this day was coming. They’ve been squatting rent-free for years.)
