Scream, but Not for Ice Cream

In four days we’ve had more progress in our yard than the last four months. Concrete, new fence, previous rock wall stones moved and we are ready for top soil and sod today.

Here is the before picture.


Here is the picture as of this morning.

This makes me want to scream with joy.
(See more earlier pictures here.)

While reading a book on Sunday and supervising the fence being built, I glanced down at the removable part of the deck to access the hose faucet and saw shifty whiskers move.

I screamed loudly and said, “What the hell is that?”

Tim and Carson were on the other side of the opening and identified the shifty whiskers.
It wasn't a opossum or raccoon but a feral cat.

My step-daughter Carson is spending her spring break with us this week. Similar to when her older brother Cary and his girlfriend Jane visited last month, we have been hiding a 24 inch fake orange plastic snake in various parts of the house.

No one is spared in our house from teasing. I slipped the snake under Jane’s pillow one night before she went to bed.
When she was getting into bed later that evening.
I heard her scream.

Yesterday, I placed it into Carson’s makeup/overnight bag and positioned it in such a way it would spring forward when she opened the bag.
It worked.
She screamed too.

Currently, it’s somewhere hidden in my room but I have yet to find it this morning. I’d rather scream for ice cream or water in the pool.