I adore vintage squirrel items, and so was very pleased when this little rodent showed up, care of my mother, from a family friend back home.
He is adorable, and is currently acting as a table centerpiece (he may be small, but he's got the attitude to take up the whole table!) while I contemplate where he belongs amongst my other squirrel items. I spend a lot of time on the Internet looking at vintage squirrel items. Luckily, I have buckets of self control, and have managed to keep myself from bidding on the sweet taxidermy banjo-playing squirrel I keep coveting. But self control can only last so long. Someday I'll snap and get that job in Antarctica I've been wanting, and I'll have that banjo-playing squirrel shipped to me way down at Amundsen-Scott, where I will be "the weird kitchen worker with the dead squirrel in her room."
Which is not too much worse than my current status as "the weird database manager who wrote that children's book about calling in payroll."
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