From my bedroom window early this morning, I saw the branches of my peach tree waving around unnaturally—which I took to be the sign of a marauder—so I went into the yard and found this guy who had just plucked one of my nascent fruits and was devouring it. Little shite. Bad manners, too, chewing with its mouth open. A squirrel from Delaware would never be so uncouth.
The farmers market was unusually crowded this morning, even at senior hour. There were long lines, and not once but twice, someone cut in front of me. One was an old woman with a walker so I decided not to knock her down. Then she took a really long time buying stuff. The other was a clueless guy who was paying no attention to keeping his stupid body away from others. I decided to act more mellow than I was feeling, and let him get away with it, keeping well back from him.
On my front stoop when I returned, there was a grocery bag containing an assortment of Things That Ginnas Like Best. It turned out to be from Lulu, delivered by InstaCart. I have no idea how she snagged that TP.
The song that is currently cycling endlessly through my brain is Iron Butterfly’s In a Gadda Da Vida, an early-70s head-banger. The reason it entered my mind is that a few days ago I sent Molly and Elana a Marco Polo of me rocking out to it. Ever since, I’ve been going around the house belting it out. Which is hard to do when I know only nine of the words.
Here you go. I have no pride; I’ll show you part of it.
I’ll have you know that in my Irish dancing days so long ago, I was every bit as accomplished and graceful.
How cool is that? A twofer: the video of you losing your sh*t, and the stunned squirrel. Thank you!
Molly spoils you. You deserve it.
Wow you got so close to that little shite! It’s a great photo – you can see all the tiny hairs and leetle hands and the tongue even super clearly!
I am honored and delighted to have witnessed the delicate masterpiece of Ginnadance. Thank yoooooooou!
Eleni: I’m so glad you derived some modest enjoyment from this post.
Elana: As you know, I was about three feet, possibly four, from the little delinquent. Awfully close, but s/he was too busy to pay much attention to me.
If I danced like that, I’d throw my back out of joint!
That’s a great red-handed squirrel photo!
I am glad to have been able to help your toilet situation. It’s the least a gal can do.
Your dancing is sheer elegance, and I (still) love it.