Bushy Tailed Bandits

The first cool front dropped temperatures into the 70's, but it warmed up with a vengeance after a few days of teasing.  It is back in the 90's again, but the weatherman said to expect another cool front, bringing temps back into the 70's.  I can't wait.  To celebrate this onslaught (hopefully) of cooler weather, Tricia and I have been thinking about driving to Beaumont and purchasing a new fire pit.  We've had our eyes on one outside Buccee's that is built in thick-gauge steel and built to last for a lifetime.  It has a grill on a pivot so that you can build wood fires on it and barbecue.  Our old fire pit has rusted out.  It did give us many years of service, so we can't complain.

Here's the other thing about the beginning of fall.  Leaves start falling.  That's a good thing, but something better falls out of the trees - PECANS!  Last year we harvested exactly ZERO pecans.  It was the first year that we didn't get any pecans.  Most years we pick up buckets and buckets of them.  We shell them and freeze them and use them throughout the year to snack on and to use in various recipes.

So craning my neck upward, I begin assessing this year's crop.  I can see some up there.  I began calculating how many future pecan pies will be baked when those pecans ripen and fall to the ground.

But we've always been told to not count our chickens before they hatch, right?  It was not until I looked down beneath the pecan tree that I saw the dire straits we're in.  Can you see what's littering the trampoline mat?

I'll zoom in a bit.  What you are looking at is chewed up pecans.  The stain on the trampoline is the rich pecan oil that has leaked out of the chewed up pecans.

Who is the culprit, the perpetrator, the vile, evil doer?  I submit to you Sciuridae.  That's the Latin family name for Squirrel.  The bushy-tailed bandit.  The rascally rodent.  It is nice to share, but if we aren't careful, the squirrels will eat every pecan and we will have no pie.  Troubling thoughts indeed.  I looked for a meaningful squirrel poem that would memorialize my thoughts, but alas, there are no poems about squirrels that capture my ruminations.  So I had to write one myself.

Our pecan trees are really loaded down

With thousands of pecans that will soon be hitting the ground.

But there's trouble in paradise and this is why,

The Bushy tailed bandits are eating my future pies.

They watch me each day as I drive off to my job

And they come out of their nests and commence to rob.

But I have a plan I'm cooking up in my head

It involves a shotgun loaded with high powered lead.

Then like autumn leaves on breezy nights,

The dead squirrels will fall from lofty heights.

I'll look into their beady eyes

And relish the thought of my rescued pies.