Do you suppose raccoons celebrate Thanksgiving?
Maybe we should all be used to such things by now. For some reason, the weather prognosticators were suggesting on Sunday evening that there was a “chance” for snow flurries.
So it was a bit of a surprise when I looked out the window Monday morning and saw that “flurries” had accumulated on the vehicle I would be driving to The Paragraph Factory to start another bright and shiny week of toil.
Actually, I don’t think that writing stories and taking photographs amounts to “toil,” but that would be another story...for another time.
One thing was for certain Monday morning. It was, indeed, Monday. This time of year, at least for those of us at The Paragraph Factory, which day is what sometimes becomes a bit confusing. Same sort of thing happened to The Other Half and your scribe.
We’ve touched on this crucial issue many times in the past. During the week of Thanksgiving at The Paragraph Factory, the Friday before the holiday became Monday. Monday became Tuesday. Tuesday was Wednesday. Wednesday was Thursday.
Thursday, it seems, was still Thursday, even though things seemed a little bit confusing. Maybe that’s because professional football games, which used to be played pretty much on Sunday, were being played on Thursday. Of course, pro football games now are played during the day on Sunday, during the night on Sunday, on Monday night, on Thursday night and sometimes on Saturday day and Saturday night. Confusing?
For The Other Half and yours truly, we got a little confused because we did something on Saturday which we usually do on Sunday. Soooooo, Saturday became Sunday. Sunday was still Sunday. We think.
We’ll get to repeat the whole thing for Christmas and New Year’s Day, which both fall on a Wednesday, which will become some other day. I think.
That’s why it was so comforting to wake up on Monday and know that it was, indeed, a Monday. In late autumn. Which did not explain the snow on my vehicle.
This whole concept of which day is what got me to thinking, which is never a good thing. Just ask The Other Half.
Do critters know what day it is? Does it matter to them whether it’s Monday or Friday or Sunday? Do they look forward to the weekend. Do they dread Monday morning? Do they celebrate holidays? Do animals have day planners? Do they have smart phones with calendars or reminders or some kind of app that helps them to keep track of important stuff?
The White Rabbit in Lewis Carroll’s fantastical story, “Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland,” carried a watch, and was late for some sort of appointment, which led to Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland.
I bring this up ‘cause of the critter that came charging in my direction during a visit to the Lincoln Memorial Picnic Grounds in Jonesboro a couple of weeks ago.
I visited the picnic grounds to go for a walk, which I do on a regular basis. Normally, during my visits, I’ll see squirrels and birds...and bugs and turtles and frogs, at least when the weather is warm.
While strolling along one of the walking paths at the picnic grounds, I noticed what sounded like the rustling of leaves. That would not be unusual, since it was fall.
I looked in the direction of the sound of the rustling leaves. To my surprise, here came a raccoon, straight in my direction.
Apparently, the raccoon spotted me, and veered away. The critter made straight for a split rail fence row at the picnic grounds. The raccoon clambered up the fence, did a balancing act walk along one of the rails, jumped back down on the ground and rapidly ambled away.
The raccoon made its way to the bank near the pond which is located on the picnic grounds. Then, it pretty much disappeared. Don’t know where it went, or how it got to wherever it was going.
Now, in hindsight, I’m guessing the raccoon, like The White Rabbit, was late to some sort of appointment. Truth be told, though, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t find the hole the raccoon took to Wonderland, which was kind of disappointing. An Adventure in Wonderland might have been kind of fun. Whatever day of the week it is.