Brigid stays on the blanket, but Sophie gets too excited, jumping up and down (and off).
I waited awhile because Kevin likes meeting new people and chatting with them, and I didn’t want to cut him off from this source of chats with strangers. It’s all part of moving into a new home. However, after so many visits from people trying to sell us things, I finally decided that I needed to put out the welcome mat, as well as the opposite: a “No Soliciting” sign. I didn’t realize how these two items might work together to create something new.
Shortly after, the doorbell rang, and my first thought was wow, that sign isn’t working. However, it might be a package, and since the peephole was set for somebody apparently 7 foot tall (we really need to fix that), I opened the door. A young guy was standing there smiling, and I tilted my head in question. “Do you have ferrets?” he asked, nodding yes as if he hoped this would be my answer.
Wait, what?
Not what I expected. Maybe he saw us take Brigid on a leash? “Yes… we have ferrets…”
“So,” he began, motioning at the No Soliciting sign, “I saw this, but…” he then motioned toward the door mat that says “Welcome” and at the bottom: “Hope You Like Ferrets.”
Ah. Got it.
“Can I see your ferrets?” He’s looking up with a whole lot of hope on his face. Well, of course he can see our ferrets. I told him to hold on while I get them. I yell out for Kevin that somebody is at the door who wants to see ferrets. Kevin’s thrilled, and he grabs Brigid while I get the twins. We let the guy see the ferrets, and he doesn’t try to sell us anything.
The ferrets have been shared with two sales/charity people so far, and we haven’t been here long. Trading sales calls for the joy on people’s faces when they see the ferrets is a win.
Image of Sophie falling asleep on a pillowcase. Sometimes they will claim something still warm from the dryer before I have a chance to fold it and put it away (which means it will be a ferret bed for awhile and return directly to the wash).


We’re mostly unpacked, but there are still some “where’s the such-and-such?” moments. It’s feeling like a home now. I’m still trying to figure out where my 5 TB external hard drive is because Cass wants to give me a bunch of file copies and about 10,000 pictures of Magnus. That sounds like an exaggeration, but it’s an actual estimate. Kevin and I already have over 5000 of our own (I mean, the kid is rivaling the ferrets at this point). All part of being Nana and Umpa.
The entire main level is being designed to be toddler-proof. Since we already aim for ferret-proof, we were most of the way there with our strategies. We’re hoping it’s a place people can just come to visit and relax. Grab some tea, read, do art, play games, or hang out on the patio. I once had a place where people would come for a moment of peace, sometimes to hide, to heal, to create, and to move forward. Not sure we’ll recreate that exactly; it was a magical place, and a very different time.
We miss our friends, many who scattered across the continent (and beyond) post-covid. Many of us have been rootless for a long while (even pre-covid). Sooj’s song “Rootless” has gained new meaning for the community.
However, this place has captured the imagination, whispering possibilities, and I’m feeling points of connection here — to the land and the people. Maybe, just maybe…. At the very least, maybe Kevin and I can provide a central location for visiting, and we’ll see what becomes of it.
Click here to listen to Rootless by SJ Tucker.
In the video below, if you listen carefully (with volume up), you can hear Kevin start to do a “voice over” for the prairie dogs. He does this often with the ferrets, and in response, they get very excited and run up to him to play. “He’s doing the voice!” he will say in his “ferret” voice. He even modifies it slightly for each one.
We have joked about how he should just do this as a YouTube channel for fun.
