Varmints...

Main Entry:
var·mint
Pronunciation:
\ˈvär-mənt\
Function:
noun
Etymology:
alteration of vermin
Date:
circa 1539
1: an animal considered a pest; specifically : one classed as vermin and unprotected by game law

Let me note at this point that we do not live in the country. You know the country (otherwise pronounced "cuuuntrrryyy" by good southern folk)...it's the place where the stars are so bright you can nearly reach out and grab them in deep, dark, cuuuuntryyy night...it's the place where the homemade lemonade is SO good you can basically chew the sugar that's in it...it's the place, that hallowed ground, where people sit on their porch on a swing and watch the day yawn into the evening dusk, and it's the place that comes with names that you only hear in books like Spoon River Anthology. It is ALSO the place where VARMINTS reside. I grew up with varmints like possums (and no--it's not o'possums), minks, foxes, weasels, beavers, ground hogs, and BIG VARMINTS--deer, bear, wildcats and the like.

However, there's something strange in the water here in the CITY. We. Have. Varmints.

Last week, while sitting on the porch in the evening with my neighbor, a FOX a-scampered down our street. Apparently, he's out every night just roaming the neighborhood. Doing what? Looking for chickens in Ma Kettle's hen house down yonder? I walked out three nights ago to get something out of my car and a skunk was staring at me. Needless to say, I sat in my car until Pepe decided to mosey on down to another yard. And last night, I was peeking out the front window when I saw some BEHEMOTH animal varmint cat puma fox thing wander onto my neighbor's porch across the street. It was dark. It was large. It was a dark, large mammal and it was nearby. I watched in a stunned stupor when my neighbor pulled into her driveway and honestly, it was like something out of a B movie--there I sit at 9:30 last night talking to the window: "No! Don't walk up on that porch! There's a critter on that porch"! However, said critter had apparently left already, because my neighbor walked into her house, unharmed.

So, anyway. We have varmints. And yes, I do know those places I spoke of like the ones in Spoon River Anthology...my daddy grew up in Flatwoods...my mom lived in Sugar Tree Hollow (pronounced, with pride, "holler"), my grandma was from (beautiful) Goshen Pass, and my grandaddy came from Eagle Rock. I am a proud conglomerate of all of those. Holler!