Last night the breezes came down from the north and danced around the mill and all our fur homes, bringing very tiny snowflakes, and making for a cozy dawn. The snow made it better to see where the night visitors had been.
Miss Prunella returned early this morning with serious intentions---the word along the riverbank is she is looking for a new home. She stopped by to yell down Gizmo's hole entrance--all she heard was, he wanted to stay in bed. Well, one little tail puff and leaves flew out the hole but Gizmo would not leave. If he is so unhappy with the noise from the air compressor then LEAVE! Everyone is looking for a better home. The situation here is intensifying--a red fox wanders through on his rounds about midnight and the hawk comes most unexpectedly every day. I have yet to get hawk's name, I don't want to get close enough to find out. Gizmo says it's the fault of the man with the long blue apron--too much corn! How can you have too much corn?--well, too many free loading visitors come who really don't need the corn, it's just easier. They will say they are grateful. It makes it harder for us who live here . . . some of us can't move. We need the corn. I work for my corn, I am an advisor, consultant as well as surveillance supervisor to the man in the long blue apron. In the spring I monitor cars, visitors. I try to encourage joggers and walkers to move along a little faster. I turn the soil with Drusilla eating bugs and worms--keeping the place free of ticks and mosquitoes. IT'S A BIG JOB! . . . someone has to do it. Sometimes I am forced to rearrange planted gardens, checking the soil in potted plants . . . IT'S A BIG JOB! I pull clothes and sheets from clotheslines--imagine sheets waving in the breeze! What are they trying to be--a goose?!
Too much corn . . . to feed us 5 geese, Gizmo, and Hazel, the man with the long blue apron must feed 257 visitors. He even comes out late at night with warm corn, for our bedtime snack meal. He is a good, kind man and we are thankful for his generosity. I think tonight we will hum to him at his bedroom window, after all the moon is a bit full, and maybe a few snowflakes will join us, tinkling against the window.