To write an entire post about an apple is a bold move, but
somehow it was read more times than some of the recovery based posts that I
have written recently. I see what you
people are after.
Here are some updates regarding some important events of the
last few months of this blog, and one, completely random, story.
I ran over a small, toothy, English-speaking bastard of a
dinosaur that… Oh, nope that was a weird dream I had. A while back, I wrote a
post entitled, A Tenth Dig
in which I shared the story of my first real
date with a human female in years. Later, just before the holidays, I reported
that that relationship status was on hold at best, but I am happy to say that
now that we are together, and we had a nice little day-date in Stillwater this
past weekend, the pictures of which most of you have seen on Facebook. I’m not
just hopeful that this will blossom into something long-lasting; I’m
enthusiastic because I know it will.
It takes a little effort, and some reciprocity to build a foundation for a good
future in a relationship, and I think that’s what we’re doing now. It’s still
new, but I have high-hopes; more on that later.
After a bumpy December in the household, I’m, happy to
report that we now have three, sober adults living here again. It all
started here a little over a month ago, and things have started to come
around for my friend who went through some tough stuff. Of course it’s not
over, and there’s always potential for disaster in this life we have chosen,
but with some hard work, honesty, and more hard work, this will all be a
distant memory soon enough.
For about a month there has been a squirrel living in our ceiling.
I’m not crazy, he’s been up there making a home for himself (or herself) and
today he’s scratching, or chewing his way through the kitchen ceiling, and
that’s what woke me up. A few months back, we had the same problem only it was
with a rare black-squirrel, and we decided to do something about it. My
housemate bought some expanding foam to fill in the holes left by the rodent,
and when he finally got around to performing the actual task, this happened:
Well, first off, I should mention that nobody that lives here has any talent
with even basic hardware, I don’t even have the right size hammer for the one
box of screws I own. Either way, when he sprayed the foam into the
quarter-sized hole in the ceiling, the results were catastrophic. The foam is
propelled outward rather violently, and we didn’t know it, but Black Stevie
(that’s what we named him) was home at the time. Out of the corner of my eye, I
saw him jump from the hole between the roof and the outer wall, and on top of
my car. He was covered from head to tail in the sticky, quick-hardening, white
foam. It was both funny and tragic at the same time. He ambled around for a
while, and jumped back to the house so we went outside to assess the damage.
When we turned the corner we saw him; he was staring at us with hatred in his
eyes. Actually, he didn’t care about us at all. He was standing on the wall—like
squirrels can do—and chewing away at his new outfit. He did look distressed.
We took the opportunity to fill-in the rest of the ceiling
so he wouldn’t be tempted to go back in, and he never did. He ended up moving
into a tree in front of our house, and slowly but surely, throughout the
summer, he changed back to black and he appeared to eventually be happy and
healthy.
The new squirrel will probably have to learn a similar
lesson soon because he’s making progress toward the human side of the house
through the thin ceiling, and we simply can’t have any more pets living here.
