In my hometown we claim a special squirrel fame. Does that sound weird? Let me explain...we are one of the only natural, original homes of black squirrels. No, not grey, not rust, but black.
Because we have a unique squirrel situation, we have unique squirrel protection laws.
We are not allowed to harass black squirrels.
I don't know what squirrel harassment looks like.
However, the G.I. Joes' in the picture would be in big trouble if this squirrel's fur was a few shades darker.
I have no idea where this picture originated, but honestly, I just couldn't let it pass without comment.
The moral of this story: Hmmm. Don't harass ANY squirrels. Beware of the squirrel's revenge. Don't buy G.I. Joe action figures and leave them unattended. Keep your eyes peeled for roadkill for photo opportunities.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.