First off, to answer Jocelyn's question, this weekend at the cottage, I peed in the toilet. And even flushed once in a while. And had a shower. And all other manner of good stuff. Because the septic tank seems to have decided that it would gain nothing from a strike other than getting its ass fired, and began working again. Go figure.
Of course, this doesn't mean it's not going to get its ass fired. Because that tank? It is so fired. However, this gives us a bit of breathing room in order to get the damn thing done right. This is a good thing, truly a good thing.
So I spent Saturday sleeping, sleeping, and when I was done with that sleeping some more. We were in bed before 11 on Friday, got to sleep eventually (any more details would be TMI and would boost my blog rating to X up from R), woke up at 10:30, had a snooze on the couch at 1:00 and got back up about 4:30, and went to a friend's place for dinner. And verily, it was good. Indeed it was. Yep yep.
During my few hours of wakefullness on Saturday, I watched Red, a tiny red squirrel - damn, we're good at original names! - who hangs out in the bird feeders, chase away a huge mother of a black squirrel. This black guy, I swear, is the size of a 4 month old kitten. Monstrous thing it is, but very very timid. Diminutive though he is, Red is a badass scrapper and made short work of the black guy. It was brilliant, though I felt sort of sorry for the big galute. Of course, Red is the same guy who stole what was left of my pear last week. The core was bigger than he was. Note to self: make sure Red always has plenty of birdfeed, or you might just forfeit your life.