I took the wheelbarrow out to the woodpile. Right after I shoveled a path to the woodpile. Will winter ever end? As I pushed the wheelbarrow along, I noticed the tiniest trail right next to the walk way and it was headed to the woodpile as well. That tiny trail went into the woodshed, and to a stack of four summer tread tires that are waiting for summer just like me. There is a mouse who enters under that bottom tire and has a snug little round home for himself. (Herself? Theirselves?!) But mice are not nearly as scary as Gerard the sand goanna at Bushbabe's place (http://bushbabe.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-new-pet-or-not.html) so I don't mind so much. I like the fact that my mouse's world fits into my world so neatly.
If his world moves into my house however, I will mind it very much.