Spring

Molls murdered a baby squirrel today bringing it in to C's study as an offering. Poor thing-it was barely six inches long. I buried it in the back 40. I need to get over these things-the crew do what they do as they are hunters but this event shadowed the entire day. Nice day to work, though-mid-60's-I screened the compost pile began the first year we arrived-gosh, it's four years. Just let the day flow-weeded, moved stuff out of the shed-the planters, the bird bath. Wind came up around 3pm and it turned cold. Mr. C seems to have adapted ok to his new digs in my study-he is beginning to molt-thank goodness C looked it up otherwise I would have freaked. He is a strange critter unlike the katters with whom one interacts. He just spends his days slowly moving around, occasionally zipping out his extraordinarily long tongue to snag a cricket for a snack. Otherwise, seemingly unmoved by anything I do despite the warnings of pet store employees-"Oh, they are difficult. Prone to heart attacks. Anything can set them down a fatal path". Great.