Yikes. We found out yesterday that we have “critters” in the basement. By 3:30 pm, workmen were scurrying all over the cottage checking entry points and telling me: “Ma’am, we’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.” That is Toccoa “speak” for “I got your back.” And they really do.
The people who come and work on this house almost have this intimate knowledge of it that goes beyond what I care to know. They know all the details of my crawl space and that is something that I will never get into. The only thing that I do is bend over the little entry door and shout, “Are you okay?” to them as they move around with flashlights. It’s a good feeling to pull up to the house and see their trucks and know that even before I arrived, they had everything going, checked out, and under control. And all is well. No huge problems to report. Just little critters doing bad critter things in a very warm and welcoming crawl space.
Of course, Cocoa watches all of this with careful eyes—watching me and making sure that all is well.
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