This is something I think all of our houseguests notice as soon as they walk into our apartment. I mean, who in the world actually buys and proudly displays a squirrel calendar? Oh right, that would be me. And apparently other people do too because I've had no problem acquiring these squirrel calendars for the past two years.
Here is the squirrel from May, in all his fuzzy little glory. As I was saying to B earlier when I was taking the picture of this thing, "This calendar is like porn for me." To which he replied, "That is definitely the sign of a serious problem." Whatever, he bought this latest calendar for me. Either for my birthday or Christmas. They're only 24 days apart and sometimes it's hard to remember which gift came from which event.
I am very sad to think that I will have to pack up this squirrel calendar soon, and even sadder to think that by the time I unpack it it will already be November and I will have missed out on a full five months of squirrel porn. For this reason, I am actually thinking that I'll take the calendar with me, and hang it where we happen to be at the moment.
Home is where the squirrel calendar is, right? That is how the saying goes?