basement and boots

I was really hoping for a longer post today.  Alas, most of my Wednesday was spent cleaning out my basement.  Hours.  More than 12.

So I didn't get outside much either, except for the occasional trip of taking out a newly-filled garbage or recycling bag.

I also had a quick photo shoot of those well-loved boots above.  They are one of Munchkin's many pairs that he has worn through until they leak.  I think I will always picture him as a little boy in boots.  Though I've saved his first pair, I've figured that to keep each and every pair was unnecessary.  But I couldn't not take a photo before the boots joined the garbage bag.

Funny enough, when I stepped outside to photograph the boots I had a friend, very close, watching me.

I am not sure if I was more excited to get a cool shot or if I was more creeped that he was fearless so near to me.  After all, there is a history.

Mr. Dave

You know that scene in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.

The hysterical one.

The one with the squirrel jumping out of the fully decorated Christmas tree.

Seen here in the trailer.  Go ahead, I can wait while you watch.

It is hysterical, isn't it?

That is until you have a squirrel in your own house.

Yes, a squirrel in your own house is decidedly un-hysterical.

So un-hysterical that you simply have no idea what to do.

So the neighbor, Mr. Dave, comes over with some walnuts.  And a cooler.

And Mr. Dave, who regularly befriends squirrels with walnuts, is not at all concerned about the jumping abilities of squirrels.

So he opens the window beneath that very squirrel as it crazily goes from one end of the curtain rod to the other end of the curtain rod.

Back and forth, back and forth.

Mr. Dave even tries to nudge him with a Swiffer.  A SWIFFER.

Even with that easy access out the window, the squirrel has different ideas and leaps out into the dining room, and tears around the living room, until he eventually finds his way out the open front door.

Yes, it is very un-hysterical when, later that evening, you then spend over four hours scrubbing as much of your first floor as possible to satisfy your squirrel germaphobia.  Trying to remove any trace of that leaping, tearing, crazy squirrel.

So that scene, in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation may be hysterical, but only to you.