This morning, I wandered idily over to the door, coffee in hand, and gazed out at the happy squirrel.
He wasn’t doing anything. He wasn’t in pursuit of another squirrel. He was just sitting there, looking somewhat smug, hey, is that an acorn in your pocket or…yeah.
Freaks, the lot of ’em.
Oh, and in case anybody’s interested in a vintage Jaguar, Dad’s selling that lovely beast who’s photos grace the entry under this one. Amaze your friends! Wow your co-workers! Horrify your insurance agent! It’s all good. (Direct inquiries to [email protected] if curious.)