WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE

It's Thursday night. The kids are in bed. Tim & I are working on various things around the house. Suddenly I hear "Bethany, come here. Quick." I head toward Tim, who is standing at the open back door, and take a peek outside. To my shock and disgust I see a racoon in our yard. A racoon!! One of God's creepiest creations is pillaging through the toy bin. Yuck!!

Now, I am not easily grossed out, but I think racoons are just nasty. Needless to say, I popped right back inside while Tim took the opportunity to start the creepy critter's modeling career. This picture isn't going to win any photography awards, but it will let you see our late night visitor.

Where does this thing sleep at night? We live in suburbia, not in the country. Yuck! Have I mentioned how utterly disgusting I find racoons to be?

Now it's Friday. I'm cleaning up the lunch mess, Naomi's in bed, and the boys are playing in their room. Suddenly I hear a loud and bizarre noise. It sounds like it's inside and outside all at the same time, but I can't figure out exactly where it's coming from. I go ask the boys what the sound was and they look at me like I'm crazy. So, I return to cleaning. The noise comes again and I realize where the "inside" part of it is coming from. The fireplace, which we never use.

Donning my detective hat, I step outside to confirm my suspicions. I have found the perpetrator. The evidence is stacked against him. There, on the cap of our chimney (remember that we don't use our fireplace) is a woodpecker happily banging away. The sound is then travelling down the chimney and out the fireplace. Inside and outside, all at the same time.