Weather or Not

Despite being in New England in late February, I think we got off lucky yesterday in terms of the weather since we had rain, okay a LOT of rain, as opposed to snow. I'm not a big fan anymore of snow. Ever since I stopped getting sleds for Christmas, the magic is gone.

If we've met you've noticed this and if not, no real loss, my threshold for others' pain and discomfort is extraordinary. I hate to brag, but it is. I can offer those bromides, 'take one for the team', or 'no one likes a whiner' for hours, if not days on end, unless my throat gets sore and then I'll need a lift to the emergency room in case I actually have a tumor or something. Turn on the siren, dammit and make them pull over so we can pass.

Yesterday was a lousy day if you were outdoors, but I wasn't, so the world was okay (my office was a little chilly, even with my sweater on, but somehow my heart will carry on). In the mid afternoon I looked out my office window and made eye contact with TS, The Squirrel.

I've bestowed the definite article on her/him, capitalized the species, and given her/him a nickname because I've gone from a raft of squirrels last summer to exactly ONE, or what I think is one (and what a hoot that would be if it's a franchise operation, like Squirrels R Us, and there's a small horde of lookalikes all across the lawn). I only turned to look out the window because I could feel something, or someone, burning a hole in the back of my neck.

At first I didn't recognize TS. I mean we had a LOT of rain. And, hand on my heart, when that fluffy tail gets soaking wet just like all that fur, the resemblance to a rat is a LOT closer than to Rocket J, if you follow my drift. I threw some peanuts out the window and resisted the temptation to note 'let a smile be your umbrella if you want to gargle snow' but TS didn't budge or even acknowledge the nuts.

I suspect, and I'm not a naturalist or Marlin Perkins, TS was struggling to understand why all the wet was on the non-biped side of the glass. I don't think animals can reason their way into grasping bonded and altered molecules creating buildings, or driveways or window panes, but TS sure looked cranked about something. And I noticed for the first time in my life that squirrels don't seem to have to blink, at least TS didn't, for what felt like thirty minutes.

I refused to get into a staring contest, mainly because I knew I'd lose so I turned back to my desk, sneaking the occasional glance over my shoulder and there was TS, still glaring and staring even as I lowered the blinds and called it a day.

I very nonchalantly sauntered down the sidewalk in front of the building and headed towards my car catching a glimpse of TS still staring as I cranked the engine. It made me hope squirrels have the memory of goldfish and not elephants, especially since today's forecast is for more unshirted awful and I may have trouble handling the guilt.
-bill kenny