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It is nut season. Can you say that?

The cascade is building. It starts with an occasion clunk, and builds to a series of clunks, thunks and boinks. Pretty soon it will build to a crescendo of items falling from the sky.
It’s nut season in my neighborhood, and it has picked up a head of steam lately.
That, in turn, increases sightings of pesky squirrels in the neighborhood, too. Not that the squirrels have ever left, it just seems they become more annoying, if that’s possible.
With all the recent clear cutting of trees in my neighborhood you would have thought the squirrels would have left, too. Not so. The city cut the wrong trees. They left my big oak and all its acorns and the bitter hickery that has an abundance of bright green nuts that drive squirrels, well, nuts.
It is the bitter hickory nuts that are dropping like rain in my yard, on my roof and onto my awnings with noisy regularity.
But are the squirrels going after the nuts? No! They keep pestering my bird feeders!
Sitting in the TV room, I can watch one of my furry friends perched atop the railing on my back steps. He sits there, tail a twitching, with one eye on the bird feeder and another on the back door.
I’ve been known to dash out the back door to chase him away, much to the delight of my neighbors. One recently noted “I didn’t know you could move that fast!”
The Swede, one of my coffee buddies at Gert & Erma’s, live traps the little darlings. He then hauls them to the county park near the airport, and lets them go. I suspect they beat him back to his house.
Of the over 100 he has trapped in the past couple of years, they are probably the same five, over and over again. They kind of look alike.
Maybe if he shot them with a paint ball gun that would mark them. Actually just shooting them might solve the problem, too. But he does not want any representative of PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) marching in front of his house with signs. Not good for the neighborhood.
There is an alternative. A BB gun. It is not as lethal as a regular gun, but can be a good deterrent. And it is not as noisy.
My neighbors have been known to use a BB gun on occasion. That little ping, and the feverish working of the pump, and then another ping is like music to my ears. You can’t tell where the pings are coming from, but I have my suspicions. All of a sudden, my squirrel friends seem a bit more tentative.
BB guns were popular when I was a kid. So popular that we kids often had fights with them while playing cowboys and Indians. Oops. Can’t say Indians any more. Might offend someone. Probably can’t say cowboys either for fear that might be offensive to Indians. Ah, oops again.
Can we say kids? Who knows that might offend some young sheep somewhere. Don’t want to get PETA picketing in front of my tree-less house.
Heck, probably can’t shoot a BB gun in town either I’m told. BB guns have gone the way of the jack knife that every boy used to carry when I was a kid … I mean young child.
In this bubble-wrapped world we live in, I’m not sure any youngster today even knows how to whittle on a piece of wood.
On second thought, perhaps there’s an app for that.