My Friends Call Me M'Lynn

...as in Steel Magnolias. Because my husband has declared war on the vermin in the backyard...namely, squirrels. Squirrels are plentiful and unafraid here on base. They play in the road and dare you to roll over them at your whopping 15 m.p.h. They leap from tree to tree and, apparently, LOVE to eat from the birdfeeder. And therein is the rub. Remember this?

Pluck You Too

Well, that's what it like with Neal around here. The only thing he's missing is the gun and the Grandpa sweater vest. He does, however, have duct tape and I caught him banging on the back door this morning, yelling, "I AM GOING TO GET YOU, YOU...RAT!" He thinks squirrels are basically rats with bushy tails and frequently says that people wouldn't comment about how cute they are if they didn't have the bushy tail. So, that's what's going on around here this weekend. I'm drinking Southern Lemonade by Firefly and Neal's booby trapping the bird feeder so that only God's creatures with wings can access it.

Et tu?