There is most certainly a Squirrel living in our wood pile.
I've found little stashes of his stuff here and there,
as I peel through the layers of our fallen Birch and Larch rounds...
I've seen him around.
He wasn't exactly sneaky about it, either.
Squirrels are hilarious.
Their secrecy is unfailingly flawed,
I can't help but just. laugh. out loud.
Like I WASN"T gonna find that pile of stuff, SQUIRREL.
REAL GOOD hiding spot, DUDE.
The squirrel is such a sweet and lighthearted fellow,
one bounding with playfulness and joviality,
chattering through the trees,
with just a touch of absent-mindedness.
I mean, who DOESN'T like squirrels?!
Watching them, just for a minute or two,
spreads a smile over my face,
and I can't help but be a little envious of their trapeze-y jumping in the treetops.
This animal represents, in so many different cultures,
the totemic spirituality of *squirrel-ing* away,
of preparedness, of bringing to the table what you've got.
and I could go on and on about how,
in the middle of November,
I am feeling like old man winter has, yet again, caught us with our pants down.
Montana is not exactly forgiving when it comes to wintertime.
And JP and I have YET to hit a winter where we felt good about our preparedness.
But this year, it's even worse.
I could say,
torn apart, down to it's bones,
is hardly ready for winter.
It makes me uneasy and, well,
We need a roof,
windows and doors,
and the list goes on and on and on.
The pot of money, however, does not draw a list so long.
Throw that all in a nutshell (bad pun yes) where JP,
the main steamrolling workforce and construction knowhow,
has been in Wyoming for the past 6 weeks,
trying to make that pot of money we really could use.
So I have been in charge of the bones while he's gone,
is really just making sure our water lines don't freeze.
(Insert wandering rant about how much I miss him, how much I am OVER the distance, and how much I truly, from the bottom of my being, think another face-time conversation might either make me cry heaving sadness, or make my head explode. I miss that man so very much it makes my eyebrows freeze into wrinkly and tortured canyons of sadness and self-pity. like the GRAND canyon, folks. seriously furrowed. deep. and mean. and dark.)
The Squirrel is all about fun,
so much more than we give him credit.
I could use a little of that lightheartedness myself...
The adult world gets me down sometimes.
Homes are full of stresses and worry,
expensive fixes and just plain ol' expenses.
My man is home soon, but honestly not soon enough.
It's so invigorating to truly enjoy my time in the studio,
which, silly enough,
this week includes creating teeny tiny silver acorns.
I literally giggled through this whole work process.
I kept muttering to myself...."awwww, nuts".....and then,
barely hiding a laugh out loud so childlike it took me aback as it fell out of my mouth.
I am ten. Maaaaybe eleven.
And I am cracking up,
over and over and over again,
about tiny little nuts.
SHOP UPDATE THIS FRIDAY.
Plenty o' nuts.
Some fall timey tributes.
A squirrel or two.
xo yours truly,