mangy squirrel

I have two things to tell you.  One is that the indoor moss is no more.  Yes, already.  Everybody who cared, cry your tears…now wipe them dry…can you read again?

Okay, here’s the deal: I don’t know anything about keeping moss alive.  I killed it.  (I’m so sorry; I tried to save it but it was a high-maintenance diva.  I caved and threw it off the balcony.)  But there’s good news!

I saved this from a mangy squirrel!

I know that sounds a little insane, and maybe it is, but so is the squirrel.  It makes me so mad!  I love this new apartment, but the balcony has two drawbacks.  One is that it’s so small I had to adopt out the cheerful yellow pots of exuberant pink geraniums that dominated my previous outdoor view.  (sniff)  The other is that this ridiculous citified mammal just leaps onto my balcony like its his and munches on my plants.  What the heck?!  I work hard to keep those things alive, Buster.

He doesn’t care, obviously.  My only choice for salvaging this, which is probably my favorite plant still out there, was to bring it inside.  Look at the damage he did; these are the leaves he didn’t sever entirely:

Moving on to the good part of this story.  I filled the moss’ vacancy with some chicks I finagled away from their hen.

Look at dat weedle guy.  So small and fuzzy like a real chick.  (Except real chicks aren’t spiky and green, I guess.)  Here’s a wider view:

Much as I liked the moss, I had to acknowledge it as a failed experiment.  I actually like this hen-&-chicks better.  It has more character, I think.  Hopefully it will have more staying power too, especially out of reach of that blasted squirrel!

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