Speak well of the dead . . .
or the ghost of Mssr. Irwin will take revenge. Yes, gardening is a humbling activity, and HE has been laid low. It is not a lone gunman on a grassy knoll taking aim at my figs. Apparently it is a clan of raccoons, for I went outside this morning and there they were once again. Half eaten figs dangling from the trees, with empty prosciutto wrappings and wine bottles left behind by the devilish creatures.
Oh well - at least they know how to live.
HE
Coming Next: Why my personalized plate on my MINI reads LIVEBIG.
Oh well - at least they know how to live.
HE
Coming Next: Why my personalized plate on my MINI reads LIVEBIG.
posted by Varro at 9:59 AM
2 Comments:
It's not that you spoke ill of the dead. It was your hubris in celebrating the successful capture of the first critter that brought the wrath of the entire clan down upon you. You, a classicist, should know the perils of hubris!
Ah, but HE's blog wouldn't be nearly as amusing without these bouts of raccoon-capturing hubris.
And HE, at least you have "neighbors" who appreciate the same things you do! :-D
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