Wild Animals
By Elizabeth Fleming
I like a mouse
When he’s not in my house,
And a rat
When he goes nibble, nibble, like that.
I like a mole; he’s a kind little soul,
And a stoat
With a smudge like snow on his throat.
I like a shrew
With his nose in the dew,
And a hare,
For he leaps and runs everywhere;
I like a fox
With his little white socks,
And rabbits and squirrels and other brown things.
I’m in love with them all,
So funny and furry and furtive and frightened and small.
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The weather on Thursday ranged from pouring rain to torrential rain, though it wasn't bitterly cold -- that is arriving tomorrow, along with potential ice problems. So it'll be a couple of quiet in-the-house days! I did chores in the morning so that I could again watch two episodes of Good Omens on an Amazon viewing party with Kristen, which I haven't rewatched in over a year and really it has no equals besides Our Flag Means Death (Crowley looks at Aziraphale the same way Ed looks at Stede).
The men in my family are all working on holiday cookies and were exchanging recipes, to which I had nothing useful to contribute. We had Indian food for dinner and watched both the beginning and the end of the Jets-Jaguars game around my usual Thursday night call, which was missing several people (one at a play, one with a cold, one about to have surgery, and one AWOL). The National Zoo has awesome new inflatable designs since we last went to Zoo Lights, so here are some of the ones we saw last night:
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