In the last two weeks, the Woodpile has seen two major
Nor’easter storms. We have weathered deluges of rain, hurricane force winds,
heavy wet snow, downed limbs, and power outages with ease. We are a hearty
bunch. Not much bothers us.
St. Patrick’s Day has arrived, we went to Blackbird Tavern
and to get some beer to celebrate and the sign on the door said “Out of Beer.”
WHAT!!!! How can you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day without beer? I pounded on the
door and demanded an explanation. The bartender told us, the deep snow and
toppled trees have prevented the delivery trucks from reaching the Woodpile.
This was a major crisis. The mayor of the Woodpile declared
a “state of emergency.” A special session of the Critter Council was convened.
While listening to the councilors discuss airlift operations, I was reminiscing
about my great-great grandfather who sailed from Ireland to America with only a
handful of seeds in his pocket, his Irish pipe in his mouth, and old green
leprechaun hat on his head. … wait … that’s it.
I ran back to the burrow and dug out the old steamer trunk
that belonged to my great-great grandfather, and there was his hat and pipe.
We celebrated St. Patrick’s Day the old fashion way with a
tip of the hat and smoking the old pipe.
Bushy
Mr. Nuthatch
Chippy
“Adorable Chippy”
“Tip of the hat”
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