When I was in 4th grade, my family moved to Greenville, South Carolina. We settled into a quiet neighborhood and started to meet everyone who lived around us. My family soon found out that we not only had human neighbors, we had squirrel neighbors that lived a little too close for comfort. As in, they were doing a great job of chewing our chimney away from our house and taking up residence in there.
My dad consulted experts on safely getting squirrels to move out, tried stinking up our house with moth balls, smoking them out with small fires, and then burning them out with big fires - all to no avail.
My dad and brother finally settled on a different plan. The squirrels had declared war on our house and it was only fitting that the men of the household fight back. After a few times of my brother and dad propping up their BB guns through the kitchen window, all was calm again. Squirrels happily took up residence in the backyard instead of in the chimney.
Apparently, my dad missed those days of BB gun adventure.
A few weeks back, I returned to Greenville to see my family. It's one of my favorite trips because I absolutely adore my parents, brother-in-law and sister, my niece, and all of our great friends. Greenville was my home for 15 years.
I walk in the house, holler to let everyone know I'm home, and hear my dad call for me to come to the back deck. My dad was on a mission.
This mission was different, he was no longer shooting at squirrels. Rather, he was crouched down with his BB gun propped on the railing, shooting at a twig that has sprouted from a massive oak tree. Can you see the twig below?
Maybe he forgot that trees have branches? Apparently, this twig was a slight annoyance to him as it was the only twig sprouting below the tree cover (you know, where all the big branches above droop down and cover).