Carpentering for the Carpenter

It was now our fourth Christmas in the North! Jon was just four months old. And I'd gotten better at picking Christmas trees, mostly because I now took Wascally Wabbit with me on those quests.

It was Sunday noon, and as we stepped in through the front door, we saw a squirrel scurrying out through the kitchen and down the back steps. In disbelief we sat down on the couch and Wascally Wabbit reached for a chocolate candy from the candy dish. There were none! She reached further to the nut bowl. It was empty too!

Then we noticed them. Up and down our Christmas tree, at every branch, there was a nut or candy carefully placed between the needles! How I wished we'd had a movie camera focused on that tree but, alas, we didn't. So in my mind I picture this squirrel scurrying up and down the tree, securing his stash, before being interrupted by the rightful tenants of the home.

Whatever happened to the squirrel. Rumer has it that the squirrel fled all the way to Kentucky where a certain Kentucky Bear is helping her look for more nuts and candy.