Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Stupid Squirrels and Transit Strikes
It's a gray, rainy morning here. I'm not looking forward to walking the dog. In fact, when we get outside, she may just turn right around and come back in, which occasionally happens in bad weather.
Did I mention that Dave recently bought a squirrel feeder? It's a little wooden box atop a platform, with a plexiglass window. The box is filled with nuts and, theoretically at least, the squirrels sit on the platform, lift the lid and eat the nuts. Our squirrels, however, don't seem to get it. They often ignore it completely, though I did see one a few days ago sitting ON the lid and sniffing around before scurrying away. We've begun propping the lid open to clue them in, but all that does is attract big, lumbering, flapping pigeons, and tiny tits that fly away with entire nuts as big as their heads.
Apparently our squirrels are challenged in the realm of problem-solving.
I saw one of my French teacher pals at school yesterday, and I could not bring myself to try to speak French to her. Why am I so hesitant? She's a teacher. It's not like she never hears bad French, and I really do need to practice! I also need to do some serious studying. I feel like I'm forgetting so much, and our next classes don't begin for a few weeks.
We were supposed to have another substantial tube strike this week -- there was lots of drama in the newspapers about it -- but it was called off at the last minute. As I've said many times before, I'm generally a labor supporter, but I think the transit unions create a lot of ill will with these strike threats. They're shooting themselves in the foot. (Feet?)
(Photo: A sidewalk chalk artist in Trafalgar Square, on Saturday.)