I realize I am writing this to a limited audience that will never witness this performance. Once a show closes, curtain down–no one else can experience that show.

However, a select few who pay close attention to their surroundings may catch a glimpse of what goes on in downtown Austin at an Airbnb right off the main drag of Lamar.

Sir Edward the Squirrel. He is reddish-brown. Five inches tall on all fours, eleven inches on his tiptoes—a regular guy: bushy tail, two eyes, two ears, two front arm/legs, two back legs—nothing noteworthy missing or impaired.

My husband’s name is Edward, so anything cute gets named Edward regardless of gender or self-identification. The other name is Sigmund. That is the name of my Tesla, Roomba, and all other devices you could potentially name, including but not limited to my Toto au bain. Edward, Eddie, or Ed is the preferred terminology for the living. The exception is potentially dangerous, like the alligator living behind my house in a canal in Cape Coral. His name is Adolf.

Back on Castle Avenue in the heart of downtown Austin right off Lamar, Sir Edward is trying unsuccessfully to climb up some bamboo and propel himself to a bird feeder hanging strategically in the middle of the yard with access points only for the winged. It must be an impressive meal that the owner, Fran stocks in that feeder. I do not know how long he has been at this, but this is my fourth day observing his relentless determination.

I do not know how Sir Edward has not concussed himself. He lands miraculously on his feet each time, usually on the grass or crashing into delicate pansies lining the border that are not intended as miniature trampolines. Just as he artfully misses his intended destination this last time, a blue jay swoops in and enjoys several morsels, flaunting his airborne superiority. In Sir Edwards’s eyes, I see new determination and will to leap up and grab the feeder with his two-front arm/legs. But alas, in a nanosecond it is over–he leaped back tirelessly onto the bamboo and once again missed his objective.

I observed this oasis from a recliner in a screened-in porch whose sliders open into a beautiful great room with a fireplace and carefully culled art. Nothing here is a coincidence. The viewing and gardens and even the bird feeder are placed with care to create a calming trance, encouraging one to simply stop, breathe deep, and immerse oneself in the glorious surroundings.

Fran, one of my truly great friends who has stood the test of time and tribulations, created this space for her sanity and family to enjoy. She is a curator with an eye for everything from whimsical to majestic. She affectionately has dubbed this premise the FranCave as it is for her exclusive use and retreat from the world. If she recommends it, do not hesitate.

There is a slice of paradise and views on connecting properties she does make available at:

T1: Tiny Tasteful 1: 

https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/6570493

T2: Tiny Tasteful 2: 

https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/7435259

T3: Tiny Tasteful 3: 

https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/plus/11442375

T4: Historic Harthan: 

https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/15956612

T5: Clubhouse on Castle Hill: 

https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/27730184

Sir Edward’s antics are not limited to just the FranCave of Fridays–he has been spotted equally fanciful on the adjacent properties. Oh, to be young again, full of energy with time to pursue your passion–getting seed from a feeder. It’s just not placed in a friendly way for Sir Edmund! Pull up a chair and enjoy the show.