Saturday, November 22, 2008
A Bit of a Squirrely Update
Linda of Vulture Peak Muse left me a comment in my first chapter of the three part series on Squirrels in the Attic, informing me that squirrels use their feet like raccoons, they carry their food into the attic through the red tile roof and since they put foot to mouth, they are not likely to like cayenne pepper. I went on a hunt for large amounts of cayenne pepper and lucked out at Big Lots. Big shakers of cayenne pepper for $1 apiece. I bought eight. Today we, my two tenants and I, embarked on the cayenne pepper raid. I supplied the pepper, the masks to protect the pepper appliers from inhaling pepper and other crap (literally), the rubber gloves, and the ladder. They climbed into the attic crawl space above the upstairs bedrooms and bathroom and found the openings where the squirrels are entering, sprinkled the pepper generously around all places where there is any sign of squirrel activity. In the nesting area, all over the walnuts in storage up there. Wherever there is any sign that a squirrel has been, it has been sprinkled with a heavy coat of cayenne pepper. Thanks Linda. We'll give it some time and I'll report back to you as I know whether or not this has discouraged the squirrels. I know you're all holding your breath waiting for these answers.
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8 comments:
UTAH: No more of this "crone" stuff. Take it from me, a very -- um -- "active" man. There is something highly appealling and erotic about you that it's your writing, the way you put your site together, the pictures you choose, and -- Spanish expression best --"tu forma de ser".
Kelso, I've missed you. So glad you dropped in.
Sounds hot.
(Okay, I just could not help myself.)
It is hot. And you have such great comedic timing. I followed you to your guest blogging site today, but often when I have to register to comment, I write my very best comment ever, and then the registrar kicks my ass out. What is it about me? They don't like my URL?
D-CUP/UTAH: You know that I'm never one to mess around or bullshit anyone. Both of you are extraordinary women and hell yeah it's hot for me even without a suggestive or erotic word written by either of you. Just the words themselves. The sentence structure. The choices. And the mood. I can't help it. I am aroused! Which is a great because purely by accident I really good blog elsewhere reminded me of a friend who died way too young in odd circumstances such that I repress my memories of our brief friendship.
Sexual arousal based on artistic merit is a lot nicer a feeling. Trust me!
I'm a gear-head but I come from an artistic family, so my focus on the logical and practical has not leeched out the artist totally!
And I'll square the circle here. Maybe 8 years ago or so, my mother, father sister and I were having some drinks and talking and how this came up I'm not sure but it was clear to all of us that there was a very robust and healthy sexual vibe in each of us that arrived with puberty and that we'd taken for granted, along with the synesthesia my father, sister and I share. If there was one extra thing aside from having share living quarters for 12 years as a quartet, for each of us, my sister and me as single people and my parents who've been monogamous in their single lives have been highly sexually confident and lustful people for whom sex was always extremely important.
So, I don't know if you heard my hour long interchange with "R. Fitzgerald" on the radio show last night. The topic was sex and he really had trouble accepting that I've never had a "virgin/whore" complex. He couldn't accept my belief in the possibility that a 40-year monogamous love marriage between a man and a woman, man and man, woman and woman, could begin with random dirty meaningless sex.
Moreover, he was shocked to find out that it has never bothered me in the slightest to know if a partner had had 50 or 80 other men before. That it was completely irrelevant to me because I was not in a competition. I was in a physical situation where fantasy or whatever could take me anywhere.
He was surprised that I wouldn't consider "hiding away" a "ho" (in the vernacular not meaning sex worker) but instead I asked him "why would a woman who has had more experience sexually and enjoys it more be less of an appropriate dinner companion or conversationalist or have worse manners in some way?"
Fascinating. We were in two different worlds. Babz thought it was maybe my having lived all over the world. Fitz thought it might be a Black thing versus a Jewish thing. And we talked about a lot of that with no pat answers.
Now, I'm suddenly thinking it's not travel or ethnicity at all but heredity and brain chemistry.
My family has the ability to express that in fiction. I can only derive it in other peoples' writing, art work, music and tastes thereof.
So, dear ones, when I say that I get physically aroused by your intellectual work, I am not being a full of shit Lothario. I don't often express myself like this and for some reason now -- and today probably because this repressed memory of a death of a friend came up -- that I've felt the desire and need to be so forthright.
Thanks for your patience.
Patience my ass. I'm riveted, and love you for this sharing with us, this intimacy in the public square, assuming that anyone else stops by. You're very dear Kelso, you and you nuts can come share with us anytime. We do cherish intimacy.
Hope the pepper helps rid you of your squirrel problem. I have been cruising the intertubes, haven't commented on your blog recently because the posts were so personal that I didn't know what to say.
not knowing what to say either except good luck with the hot stuff...
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