All other residents and annual visitors have left the mostly-summer getaway I like to refer to as Galt's Gulch. (Actually, I'd prefer calling it the less aurally offensive Mulligan's Valley, but that would be like calling myself Jesus.) I've not spent much time here alone. Only two other times that I can recall, but to be fair, one of those times a scab was on the premises.
This time I was left with a list of chores. Minimal stuff, but enough to set up a routine. I'm thinking I'd like to maintain this routine when the others return -- unless, of course, those already holding the positions enjoy them and would object.
Ducks: fed. Mail: tended. Hummingbird feeder: full. Plants: watered. Flying squirrels: fed, watched, enjoyed.
The unlisted chore = protecting flying squirrels and flying squirrel feeder from Raccoon Invasion.
This time I was left with a list of chores. Minimal stuff, but enough to set up a routine. I'm thinking I'd like to maintain this routine when the others return -- unless, of course, those already holding the positions enjoy them and would object.
Ducks: fed. Mail: tended. Hummingbird feeder: full. Plants: watered. Flying squirrels: fed, watched, enjoyed.
The unlisted chore = protecting flying squirrels and flying squirrel feeder from Raccoon Invasion.
