The Mouse Saga (cont.)

In our last thrilling episode, Laura was bewailing the ineptness of a certain cat at keeping live mouse prey CAUGHT. In this episode…

Laura: Simon, what’s that noise in the kitchen?

Simon: Mrowr?

Laura leans back on the sofa and looks into the kitchen, where one… TWO mice are gazing at her from the back burner of the stove.

Now, after our last episode, Laura went to the local feed store and bout a set of humane traps. So far they have been patently ignored… she re-positions the traps in closer proximity to the stove.

One mouse is caught the next afternoon – not one of the two adult-sized mice from the evening before (these mice, I have a feeling, are akin to Douglass Adams’ description of mice in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy:

Mice are the physical protrusions into our dimension of a race of hyperintelligent pan-dimensional beings who commissioned the construction of the Earth in order to find the Question to the Ultimate Answer of Life, the Universe, and Everything. As such, they are the most intelligent life forms on that planet.

So – I have a young juvenile mouse in a humane trap, and the plan is to take said Mouse with me the next morning when I leave for work, and to drop him/her/it off at the creek about a mile from my house – the OTHER side of the creek, to be as precise as possible, since everyone who has ever encountered a Mouse knows that said Mouse will go to great lengths and distances in order to return to its favorite B&B when transported Out. On the other side of the creek there is water to cross in order to come “home” – cold water, this time of year. And there are a variety of other houses and barns to (hopefully) distract the Mouse and keep it occupied until Nature, in the form of snakes or my cousins’ cats, takes its Course.

But as I was pulling the car over to the shoulder of the road, the humane trap lid jiggled open, and Mouse JUMPED OUT of the trap and onto my coat, and then to my feet, and, by the time I was able to stop the car and get out to try to catch it…. out of sight.

I cannot win for losing, sometimes.

I did stop by a DRUG STORE and purchase a new, larger, and heavier humane trap. We’ll see how well IT works once the mice become complacent to its presence in the kitchen. It’s baited with peanut butter and Cadbury chocolate square.  For Cadbury Chocolate, I’d climb into the trap, myself (but I have the rest of the bar to console me, so there’s no need for such measures).

 

to be continued… sigh.

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Lessons Learned, cont.

Not exactly a hard lesson, but an important one, I believe:

7. Love is born not of our weakness but of our strength, and in its turn it gives birth to greater strength – and, because Love is a virtue, to greater virtue.

“Love” that is born of our weakness or finds excuses for sin in weakness, isn’t really love at all, but codependency.

Advent greetings –

I haven’t been posting because the things I’ve been preoccupied with, the past couple months, are not things I can discuss in public. God bless my dear, patient, longsuffering friends who keep visiting this blog in hopes of finding SOMETHING new to see, here.

I’m going to come in and post a link in a second, but first let me direct your attention to a piece I posted a couple years ago, and wrote, originally, six years ago.

A blessed Advent to you all.

Thanks to Angela for directing me to a delightful blog – My 50s Year is a charming attempt at adopting retro living –

It seems to be a developing trend, and why not? We are all hungry to return to a time when life was simpler, morality and decency were the norm – when you could turn on the television or go to a movie and not have to mentally edit the profanity… when you didn’t have to be voyeuristic in other people’s sex lives…

People hunger for decency and simplicity. We long for the days when men were men, women were women, vive la difference! and never the twain shall meet – much less disappear.

So check out this charming little blog, and think of pulling out your own hats… and where do you suppose I might be able to find some dress gloves? hmmmm

 

Stress hits in the strangest ways

Suffice it to say that the past two weeks have been quite the nightmare. A bit of unexpected news knocked me for a loop, and the clean-up was extremely distressing… and a couple of friends have been in hospital… and I said yes to commit my workplace for a fairly major event the weekend before Thanksgiving… which necessitates a major push of preparation NOW (and ought to have been begun a month ago?) …

I thought I was handling everything well, overall. The dreaded news that hit me hard has actually had some elements of relief to it – I can now relax; what I had dreaded in anticipation has come in fact and is not so unbearable as I had expected. I have a couple of highly competent people holding my hand and coaching me through the upcoming Event. My friends are out of hospital and recuperating well.

Then, last night, I was looking at the dishes stacked by the sink, trying to motivate myself to deal with them. “This house is definitely showing too many signs of being inhabited by an emotionally distressed individual!” I told myself.

But the worst was yet to come. I glanced in another direction, and my eye fell upon…

The iron, sitting on top of the piano, where it has sat since I had the sewing machine out… ten days ago.