And speaking of weasels...

So I've got some sort of varmint living under the front porch.

Mrs. Prayersforwah calls me yesterday and asks "did you dump a bag full of pebbles near the front porch this morning?"

Not that I can recall, but mornings are generally a confused and blurry affair for me. I've done stranger things.

A few minutes later, she calls again "okay, something is living under the porch."

Marvelous. Something displaced a small mountain of rock to burrow under my concrete slab porch. To Mrs. PrayersforWah, I suggest pouring rat poison down the hole and filling it in.

"You can't do that! What about the smell?"

Ever bury a pet in the backyard?

So she calls the village, and sure enough, I'm not allowed to harm the bugger in any way. Must be democrats at village hall...

So I have to hire someone to trap it and release it elsewhere. Probably have to read the flipping thing Miranda too.

As Drudge would say, "developing..."