Acquisition of a duck

After a week in the financial quicksands of Manhattan, Beaver and Domo are back in their red house, and green things are sprouting. There is something suspect happening in the right end of their yard; a knotted root of red that smells like mint and onion. Will it be rhubarb? Or some kind of flower? Impossible to tell when one has a webbed paw instead of a green thumb.

After three weeks of struggles with acorns, gum wrappers, and nibbled insulation, Beaver and Domo have a dining room floor. In days of yore, the dining room was one foot higher than the living room for no other reason than the particular owner felt like building up. The floor ended halfway near the wall, revealing woodland depths of dirt and earth below. The radiator sat in the middle of the room, blocking any possibility of installing a proper table. The pantry was a veritable labyrinth of slanting shelves of varying sizes, books were placed with great risk and hazard to never be removed. The ceiling fan had been installed a convenient two inches from the southern wall so that it rocked back and forth and rubbed shoulders with sheet rock each time it was turned on. In short, the dining room was a place of heavy haunting, the last place in the house where one would choose to dine.

But thanks to the Macaw carpenter from Chicopee, it is no longer the pariah of the household and lacks only some salvaged barn wood flooring to make its transition complete. The completion of one room out of seven makes our couple very happy, as does the addition of their new pet duck, Mylo. Mylo is a little mallard they found wandering in the mud after the three day deluge last week. He likes peanut butter rice cakes and green chili and a host of other foods that are difficult to find, but Beaver has taken quite a liking to her duck and it's a pleasure to spoil him in the messy red house.

In other news of late, Beaver has found a nice little shop that sells 8 grapefruits for two dollars. And that's all the news that's fit to print.