my hobby : Hobbies for Retirement

I knew my husband would have enough hobbies when he retired last February at the tender age of 51. At least I though he would until last summer when he discovered squirrels in our then-robust garden. Much to his disgust our beloved cucumbers were being munched upon, when our backs were turned, by the colonies of squirrels invading our turf.

Off to the Internet he went to search for a humane rodent trap. Many clicks and e-mails later, voila! He turned up a site which was more than willing to ship the much-needed trap within the week.

Waiting impatiently for his new toy, my husband watched with dismay as cucumber after cucumber was disassembled by the voracious squirrels that happily paid us a visit. Finally the package arrived! The family watched with amusement as Dad unwrapped his new acquisition, hardly holding back his excitement. "Quick! Get me some peanuts!" he yelped to anyone within hearing range. Armed with trap and peanuts in hand out he went into the garden to deposit his prize.

Glancing out the window now and again, we'd see one squirrel after another crawl down the fence cautiously to inspect the new addition to the garden. No luck. A few times the trap was tripped and the peanuts were missing; then other times it was tripped with the peanuts still intact. "That's it!" my husband cried. "We need a squirrel-cam!" The family looked at each other and groaned. Oh no, another toy for Dad! But one morning as Dad and I were in bed, we heard a very audible and metallic "clunk!" We both uttered, "Uh Oh!" and jumped up to run to the window. Sure enough, there it was, our first prisoner! My husband jumped up and down in sheer glee - I had to stop him from racing down the stairs in his birthday suit.

I never saw him dress so fast. He was out the door like a bullet to gather up the trap with the growling squirrel. He searched in the garage for something with a long handle to release the squirrel after transporting it far enough away from our neighborhood, deposited the trap and an old broom handle in the trunk of our car, jumped into the front seat and roared away with his prize.

Now 33 squirrels later, it is now November and the peanut-laden trap is still in the barren garden awaiting its next victim. The family quizzes Dad, wondering why we still need a trap in the garden. Dad exclaims, "Well, now the squirrels are ruining my lawn by digging holes for their peanuts!" But we all know differently, Dad has a new hobby!

By Heather Diodati