More squirrel fun

My constant readers (that is, if I have any) may remember my ongoing frustrations with squirrels destroying my bird feeders. Although I originally planned to foil them with a .22 rifle, it turned out that Estranged Husband took it in June. Combined with the fact that I'm a lousy shot, I decided to turn to other methods.

I ended up with a squirrel-proof bird feeder. It's a pretty simple mechanism: the perches will only support a bird's weight. If a squirrel tries to sit on one, it collapses and he goes splat. Not much of a drop, but it's still fun to watch the little bastards fall.

For those who like squirrels, I assure you there's sufficient dropped bird seed on the ground to provide them with snacks. And I have yet to see a skinny squirrel in my back yard.

Here's the model I really wanted - it has a motor that puts the feeder into spin mode when a squirrel gets on it, so they get tossed off. If you visit the Droll Yankee site (the manufactuer), you can watch videos of this model, the Yankee Flipper, in action.

Cold weather, hot sex

Yesterday it snowed here, which is a novelty for Texans. I confess I enjoy any excuse to build a fire in the fireplace and to do very little else. Of course I was hoping for a day off today, but the roads posed no problem.

However, I was still moving slowly this morning as my sleep was disturbed by strange noises at 3:00 am. It sounded like animals having some sort of dispute, but nothing I'd ever heard before. The closest similar sound was when I found two quarrelling possums on my neighbor's roof. Basically they just hiss at each other until one is bored enough to give in and walk away.

After several minutes, I finally crawled out from under the duvet to investigate. It sounded like something was going on in the back yard. As I went through the kitchen I realized that the cat population wasn't happy. A couple were downright fluffed up.

The source of the noise was two raccoons. But they weren't fighting, they were having hot raccoon sex in the back yard. Or what passes for hot raccoon sex when there's snow on the ground.

I chased them away, only to hear a repeat performance ten minutes later. Getting peeved - I need my sleep - I chased them off with a broom, but this time they were back in five minutes. At least the last go-round didn't last long. Soon peace reigned again.

I can't figure out why my back yard was such an ideal venue for horny raccoons. Can't they go get a hotel room like the rest of us?

It's not a gang, it's a club.

We really didn't make much of a club, either, but whatever.

Since the New Year's Day weather forecast for Austin looked conducive to biking, I decided to escape my neighbor's endlessly barking dogs (the fireworks drive them crazy) and head south for New Year's. After a mercifully short New Year's Eve bar crawl, we gathered at Fay's restaurant off Guadalupe the next morning.

Even though his restaurant is a humble Chinese place that caters to UT students, Fay is quite the motorcycle fanatic, owning no less than five bikes including two BMWs and a Ducati. I was on Ryan's Suzuki which is almost identical to mine, and Ryan had brought out his big bad BMW K1200.

We headed southwest out of the city, going through minute towns like Fischer, Wimberley and Canyon Springs. Sections of Ranch to Market Road 32 near Canyon Springs are popular with motorcyclists looking for a safe venue for a spirited ride, as it's scenic and with practically no side roads (rural drivers generally pull out onto the paved roads without looking).

I rode somewhat slower than usual because I was on a borrowed bike, and the others weren't sure if I was comfortable going 80 and 90 mph. Eventually I insisted on a solo coffee break in Wimberley, so the other three could indulge in some male bonding and taking their higher-powered bikes up over 100 mph.

Everyone was careful not to head down the Fredricksburg/Luckenbach road, as it has a bridge that's notorious for causing bike spills (see below). The water is shallow, but the bridge itself is algae-covered and slimy. Ryan dropped his beloved K1200 into the creek here earlier this year and has never been the same since, even though his bike suffered minor damage.

Off to burn a Viking ship or two

This is because this is how Edinburgh-based Scots celebrate New Year's, aka Hogmanay.

Back at Chez Melina some time Sunday.

My last cynical comment about marriage. (Until next year.)

While checking the news to see what the weather would be like Friday - I'm still trying to decide whether to stay home or head to Austin for New Year's - I spotted an article about the actor Kelsey Grammer. I used to watch Frasier, although I usually found his on-screen brother and father funnier than he.

Anyway, seems that Kelsey has dumped one young, skinny blonde to marry another, younger, skinnier, blonder blonde. Here is why he is dying to make that fateful trip down the aisle for the fourth time:

"Kayte and I are marrying because we are in love and we see no reason to postpone our happiness any longer. End of story," he told E! News via his rep.

Considering how his other marriages ended, does he really think that holding off a while will postpone his happiness? It strikes me as a strange remark; I can't decide what's going on. It's not like his betrothed is saving it for the wedding night, and besides, he's marrying a near carbon copy of Wife #3. Perhaps Grammer has some hidden insecurities about his relationships with women. And considering how many family members he lost earlier in life (his father and sister both met horrible ends), perhaps I should cut him some slack.

One thing's for sure - he ought to give more thought about his relationship with money. He keeps getting divorced but never bothers with a pre-nup.