Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Why I Hate Squirrels

You may be looking at the beautiful photo of ultra-bearing pear tree and be thinking to yourself, "Pear Pies, Pear Butter, Pear Sauce, Pear Cider..." Hell, that's what I thought my first summer in this home. And then it started to happen. The squirrels initially eat a couple bites of the small pears (the sweet parts I imagine) and drop em to the ground. Then they take just a few more bites as the pears get larger and larger. This whole process continues until the squirrels are eating entire pears. In five years, I've eaten one pear!

In the meantime, I'm picking up these squirrel morsels with a latex glove on, as I don't know where these squirrels have been. When I go on vacation, the whole thing ferments and stinks like vinegar. Then there's the ever attractive houseflies that just love the leftovers. In a nutshell, it is for these reasons that I hate squirrels. Admittedly, I am still enamored by their variation in coloring, whether its the classic gray (not found around here), our localized species-the Cleveland Brown Orange Type, the black ones in the early blocks of Clifton Ave, or the albinos that escaped from the University of Dayton and now inhabit my parents backyard.

Also pictured is today's little haul. It's a tease of sort. If it would only get hot. All tomatoes are ripe except the green one (picked for frying). Kinda psychedelic.

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