I Should Be Mad, but I Have a Serious Cuteness Weakness

After a complete summer's worth of back-breaking manual labor, we were able to completely de-root 20 years' worth of ivy growth, and nestle some spare, unthirsty, baby plants into a fluffy bed of bark dust, which we hope will help them blossom next spring into lovely blobs of lavender and sage.

However, we did not count on the fact that the neighborhood has a healthy squirrel population, and a healthier walnut tree across the street. We had no idea that what we installed was a 75-foot-long nut storage device.


Now they seem to be digging just for the aesthetic pleasure of seeing their own handiwork. Our fluffy new bark dust looks like it has been hit by a thousand tiny air strikes.

The bark flies in all directions when they are at work. I should be livid that I have to go out and sweep the bark back into place, and smooth over the pock marks. But I don't care. They're just so cute, and they look so happy that this new pantry has fallen into their tiny little laps.


I'll think about fixing it in the spring.