Suburban Life...

It feels like a Thursday today; it's a taunting day that lets you know that it's almost the weekend but it isn't here yet. We still have another day to go, another day before we can forgot the responsibility of work and spend three days in peaceful laziness.

I still haven't solved the mystery of the hickory nuts. When I got home from work last night, the nut was gone. I noticed that my grill cover has little tiny cuts in it. I'm choosing, for now, to believe these are almost like the marks of grapple hooks, that they belong to the paws of a squirrel.

I've been assured, you see, by several folks that a squirrel is strong enough to carry a hickory nut onto my grill as well as balance on the little ledge.

I hope this is the case because otherwise whoever left me the hickory nut rudely took it away again. That's not very nice.

I didn't see any more nuts last night. I'm bound and determined to keep my eyes peeled for more.

I did, however, see my neighbour's dogs last night. I'm getting to the point where I dislike those dogs a lot. I cannot go into my yard without them going ballistic and barking like crazy. My neighbour now awkwardly attempts to solve the problem by picking up the yappiest dog and holding it up for me to pet. While I salute his attempts to do something about the issue, this means I have to politely make conversation with him while petting the dog. He's not much of a conversationalist so...it's awkward.

Sometimes, I do not want to pet the dog. Sometimes, I want to just go into my yard, water my plants and ignore my neighbour. I know he's trying to solve the problem so I'm trying to do my part.

The problem is those dogs bark all the time and it doesn't seem to matter if I'm inside or out. If they hear my TV through my bedroom window which faces onto their house, they bark. If they see me in my family room moving around, they bark. If I step outside to take out the rubbish...they bark.

You get the idea. I was hoping that they'd get used to me over time. Instead, they only seem to be getting louder.

I suppose, in a way, if I am being stalked by a Crazed Lumberjack, it's probably good that those dogs are there. Maybe they'll scare him away. At the very least, maybe their barking will irritate him.

On the plus side, that bunny that seems to like eating my lawn has found a way to avoid the dogs. He aligns himself with my tool shed, which means the dogs can't see him. Then he lies down and just nibbles the grass. I'm quite fond of that bunny now. He does seem to be doing his part to keep the grass mowed for me. I appreciate that more than he knows.

It's interesting to watch my lawn. The growth rate has definitely slowed; this is a fact for which I am most appreciative. I still need to mow but not quite so frantically as before. I probably should mow before I take off for my parents for the weekend. Otherwise, it's likely I'll come back and have a mini grass-forest to take have to mow. I find it fascinating how much more my grass grows when I'm gone than when I'm living there.

I also think I might have a mole living in my garden. I keep finding holes in my lawn that look like burrow holes. Ever since The Wind in the Willows, I've wanted a mole. I find them quite adorable. Thus, so far, I don't mind having a mole. I've heard they're not good. They even have mole killer in Lowe's. I don't think I could kill a mole. It seems mean. I've already made him homeless. My grass clipping pile had burrow holes on either side and last weekend I cleared it away. I have a horrible feeling something was living there. Thankfully, I didn't come across it while I was scooping up the grass. I'm quite glad about that. I tend to be a squealer when something freaks me out and even if it was a little mole, I probably would have squealed. Then that would have made the dogs bark. Which means I'd have to go talk to my neighbour and pet the dog.

Living in suburbia is interesting.

Happy Wednesday.