Hi. I’m Deirdre. I’d like to tell you a little bit about myself. But I’m afraid to on account of the squirrels.

I don’t know if you’re aware, but the squirrels are watching me. Watching us. They’re everywhere: in trees, on lawns, on roofs, on wires. And they’re falling from the sky.

Ok. I think I’m safe.

Wait.

Ok.

I’ve been playing fiddle since I was a little lass. Some girls wore bows in their hair; I had a bow in hand, and I put it to strings among other things. I learned to play Celtic fiddle from my father, who would take me out to Irish seisiuns every now and again. That’s also where I picked up a taste for good Irish whiskey and bad Irish men. I picked up tunes simply by hearing them. I’m still not too sure what key I’m playing in half the time. I mean, I know when I’m playing in the right key; I just don’t know the name of it. Oh, I’ve got mad skills. In fact, in Providence, R.I., I’m known as the Maestro. (Not to be confused with the Seinfeld character of the same name.) Oh no. Squirrels.

You never know where they’re going to come from. The squirrels, I mean. I’ve seen them fall right out of the clouds for crying out loud! I swear it’s true. Thump, and there one was. Right there on the ground. Oh forget it.

I can’t forget it.

Wait. What was that?

I’m inside. There shouldn’t be any squirrels inside. Right?

Someone asked me to reveal something about myself in this bio thing. I don’t really have anything to reveal about myself; but I can reveal something about my mother. A little known fact about my mom is that she was once arrested for illegally recording a Johnny Mathis concert with a small tape recorder hidden in her purse. What are the chances of that happening? Chances are…

Oh. I almost forgot. This isn't my first time playing in a band. Back in…

Sorry. I thought I heard something outside the window. You know what they say: If you feel like you’re being watched, you’re probably being watched. By squirrels.