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Thursday, November 27, 2014

October 18, 2013

It's raining at The Hollow this early, dark morning. Not a noisy plunking kind of rain, rather the shooshing-traffic kind. Not hard to tell the road's wet, just listen to the cars. So, I knew it was raining even before I peeked out the back door. And is it ever dark just before dawn! I opened the door just enough to poke my head out, and heard whoo-whoo-who-who. Mr. Spookowl is on the prowl! Hope everyone is safe-and-sound at MouseHouse this morning. I expect there are two weary little boy mouselings at least.
Sometime in the night, I awakened to a brighter room than normal for that hour--thought it was time to get up. Funny how light affects our sleep cycles, even light from the full Hunters Moon, or who knows, maybe it's because of the full moon. Scientists say people do act and feel differently when the moon is full. Oh dear. Who knows what I'll do today! So anyway, I tossed-and-turned for awhile, disgruntled that it was only 2 a.m. and not time to get up at all! Guess the clouds rolled in and darkened things again, because the next thought was 5 o'clock.
Hunters Moon. Suppose that has something to do with hunting season? As you might imagine, with my love of all the creatures at Hare Hollow and beyond, hunting (for sport anyway) is a sore subject. And because we live in a wooded area, (albeit a dwindling one!) we frequently hear gunshots at dusk and dawn during hunting season. We cringe every time.
Ah well... the cycles of life--our Creator holds the tiniest sparrow in the palm of His Hand, so Scripture tells us. I must rest assured that every creature is equally precious in His sight, and trust in His keeping. Only He knows the reasons behind man's motives.
Bic found his way to another adventure yesterday--nothing too risky mind-you, but mischievous just the same. I'd promised to help my daughter clean her garage... it's that time of year to consider garages being used for their real purpose--a place to park the car undercover! So off I went, early in the morning, cleaning-duds on, lunch packed, singing my way down the highway at... well, I won't mention how fast. I try not to break the speed limit, but dear-dear, I do have to watch that lead-foot! Now there are 5 Stops, a one-way tunnel and a couple of stop lights between here and there, and it was while I sat waiting for my turn through the tunnel that I noticed something dangling from the side pocket of my purse. Looked like a tail... a pink tail. Second look though, it had disappeared. I must be seeing things, goodness, I'll have to get my eyes checked again.
Soon we were dragging pots and rakes, shovels and stuff out onto the driveway before the sweeping and brushing, dusting and storing began. We were about half-done by lunchtime, and it was while soup was being heated, and I was alone in the garage that I saw a tawny blur dart from behind one of the storage bins. Delighted, I assumed it to be a Hare Hollow cousin to Sir Fivel's brood, but no... the next glance proved me wrong--a tell-tale pair of denim blue overalls and a mischievous pair of sparkling brown eyes looked down at me from atop a shelf bracket.
"Bic!..." I exclaimed. "What are you doing here? And how did you...? Oh never mind, I know... my purse. That was you, you little rascal." With a squeaky-giggle, he darted behind the bin again.
"Bic... now you listen carefully to Mama Hare, you better pay attention and get back in the car before I leave or you'll be left here many miles from home. And your folks sure won't like that! Have you thought about what Miss Winklesnout is going to say about you skipping school today?! Or your Mama, what she'll think when you don't come home at the normal time?"
He peeked out at me again, looking a little worried now, and this time another, identical face, appeared at the other side of the bin. "Ben?! Not you too!" I couldn't help but chuckle though. How is it they know what my plans are, almost before I do, and manage to stow-away without me knowing, again and again?
We had a productive day. Her garage is clean and ready. Bring it on, Ole' Man Winter! So wearily I headed home just as rush-hour began, traffic was heavy, with lots of stop-and-go's, but I had company, and not just the traffic kind. Two weary little mouselings lay curled up in the passenger seat, tucked in behind my purse and the seat, tight against each other, tails curled, long-lashes laying on tawny cheeks, they napped peacefully. No need to hide now, Mama Hare knew their mischief already, and was just glad to be bringing them safely back to their own mama.

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