Fee, Fi Fo Fum, I should have eaten those baby squirrels when I had the chance. Crunch, crunch.
But, no, they were so tiny and helpless when I discovered them.
I closed the shed and let them be.
And now I am paying for it.
There were generations of squirrel nests in the shed. They pooped on every mold stored there and used the protective cardboard covers for nests! It's filthy.
And so discouraging to see my life's work covered in feces.
"Everyone's a critic! Those squirrels may know shit but they don't know art."
Clean and in temporary storage in the garage while we tear the old shed down.
The new building will be squirrel proof! And probably baited. This is war.
The positive aspect is I'm finally organizing and cataloging my work.
But, no, they were so tiny and helpless when I discovered them.
I closed the shed and let them be.
And now I am paying for it.
And so discouraging to see my life's work covered in feces.
"Everyone's a critic! Those squirrels may know shit but they don't know art."
Wash and scrub each mold. This soapy mold of the peony looks like a winter scene.
Clean and in temporary storage in the garage while we tear the old shed down.
The new building will be squirrel proof! And probably baited. This is war.
The positive aspect is I'm finally organizing and cataloging my work.
1 comment:
All artists get pooped on somewhere down the line...sorry!
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