UPDATE: 30 hours later and all the acorns are gone; squirreled away into every orifice the land and forest can offer. The juniors, naively, try to bury what they steal from the pile in the yard, directly. Pat, pat, tuck, tuck, their little paws smooth the ruffled grass and earth in the pretense of an undisturbed, you-didn’t-see-anything condition. Were humans to vanish this instant from the area, no doubt, in a year we’d have oak-sprouts bursting forth. In 20 years, a new forest would emerge. But, alas, we, nature’s infidels, persist. Hopefully, some of those luscious nodules find their way into those furry rascals’ bellies, come spring.
Brooke Breazeale bet me 5 pounds of chestnuts I couldn’t find 20 pounds of acorns. So I had to show her up.
I rigged a bag-on-a-hanger and a broom and, ahem, cleaned up. Boy, are our squirrels gonna love that pile!
Over near where I now work (woohoo, 5 weeks down and 500 more to go!) are acres of massive oak trees that drop the most gorgeous, plump acorns. The “mast” have pale yellow flesh and I find myself wanting to chaw down on a few of the lovely specimens. Of the local tribes of the Willamette Valley, the Kalapuya, who claimed this area before Lewis & Clarke and John Astor showed up (John Jacob Astor is the namesake of Astoria — and a member of the Waldorf Astoria family hotel chain), used to harvest these seeds, shell them, leech them to remove the testas (which contain bitter tannin), and then mash them up to make meal for flatbread. I have considered replicating their process, but, alas, Dave’s Killer Bread is a lot more easily come by…
If you’re not familiar with the Willamette Valley — it’s the reason the Oregon Trail was created.
Enjoy you rambunctious tree rats, you.
Anonymole - apocryphal agitators 
Perhaps American squirrels still enjoy acorns. But over here, the local squirrels no longer seem to include them on their menu.
Best wishes, Pete.
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What’s curious, is that many of your UK squirrels (the grey ones) are imports from the US. Only your red, tufted ear squirrels are native. I guess the grey ones have become discerning when it comes to posh nosh.
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I believe it is because they take bird food from garden feeders instead. In this area, the red squirrel is no longer active.
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Anony: Thanks for continuing to visit my blog. How’s the job going? Got friends, a life, new purpose?
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‘Sup George?
Life? Naw. Friends? Just you and a others here. Purpose? Kinda – job insisted on establishing “goals” — so I have to dream something up that doesn’t sound too flighty…
Writing? Well, now that we’re /finally/ out of the house we were in for 13 years… and in an apt. I can hopefully get back to spending time on my “true” goal…
(Note: I keep copying and saving your pieces. I’ve got that doc building and will get around to edits, ahem, someday soon.)
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Anony, you are under no obligation to be my editor…but I’m super impressed you have that thought on your mind! Just leave a comment now and then and I’m happy. This “writing project” I have going is going to take time…but I’m attacking it differently in 2019 and, I believe, am moving the story forward! (All the corporations play from the same handbook: they force you to set and commit to goals which, inevitably, always increase as they attempt to squeeze blood from a rock.
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In my WAY distant youth my parents went to the Washington/Oregon area, on “business.” so my dad could write it off. I was 6? My mother picked up a bag of pine cones as big as me. Not the bag, the individual cones. They survived at least 35 Christmases. They would line the fireplace hearth and mantle. There is a picture of me playing with a toy logging truck on a dirt road, surrounded by huge trees that are probably someone’s living room studs by now. But damn, those were soem BIG cones.
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You have too much free time. Don’t get me wrong, Zen is a good thing. But you’re a little old to be playinmg with your nuts. The trivia was fun. Nut bread. Nut pudding. Nut butter. No, don’t go there…
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I walk around this new place and the ground is littered with these things — all going to waste — no squirrels around. (Too close to roads).
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Okay, I’m clearly out of my league here. I’m stubborn, though, and not one to give up easily, so I’ll think of something. I’m just not going to tell you what it is until I have that ‘something’ stockpiled.
Although, I have a feeling I’ll get a picture from you of my chosen treasure before I even push send…
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(Made me smile.)
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So funny, I actually looked up that same process when I challenged you…wasn’t sure you could actually eat acorns.
It all sounds a bit too tedious for a girl who can barely manage to heat up soup. So, I’ll leave ’em for the tree rats to tackle.
You got me beat, though, for sure. My chestnut hunt is restricted to a sidewalk strip outside the coffee shop I go to. And I’m not sure if it’s good manners to take all the Canadians chestnuts. My host probably wouldn’t be so keen on my winnings in a pile of her very clean floors.
All to say, I admire your competitive spirit. Perhaps we can have another go when I get settled somewhere…pine cones, perhaps. 🙂
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Did you say pine cones?
https://anonymole.com/2018/09/25/adolescent-squirrels-are-spastic/
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