The Great Outdoors

It's lovely to have a house with a yard again, but there are a few disadvantages.

There are the squirrels in the roof, of course. I don't know if they're actually hurting anything, or if perhaps they are actually beneficial: their large, fluffy tails will provide added insulation; and their presence does serve as an ongoing reproach to the cats, who frankly could use a little more shame as part of their emotional makeup. Complacent bastards!

The raccoons are a bit out of hand. At least one comes in through the cat door at night and helps itself to the cat food. If there's no cat food, he sometimes eats the paper plate I give the cats their canned slop on. Something needs to be done about this. Then again, given the size of the cat door, I suppose I should just be grateful my house hasn't become infested with linebackers.

And night noises in the yard are always scary. We're right by the park and the creek, and taste in this neighborhood runs much more to shrubbery and yard art than to manicured suburban lawns (thank God!), so who knows what sort of creatures are traipsing through the yard at night: raccoons and possums; armadillos and hippies; probably the odd bass player, seeing as how it's SXSW. It's hard to sleep.

The houses on either side are currently vacant. Whenever people move in, they might take issue with the cats pooping in their yard. That'll be awkward.

And I really, really, really need to buy a lawnmower. And learn to garden. I won't edge, but maybe if I put up enough yard art, no one will notice.