Posted by: Karen (Betty Bear) | October 26, 2011

Mousies

For those of you who get squicked out at mice, you need to just move on and read someone else’s blog. Particularly as there is mouse violence later in the post. Edited to add: or just skip to the end to read yesterday and today’s challenges.

It must be fall. I hear the scrambling of little mouse feet over my head as I sit in the family room. Every single fall that we have lived here, and it’s almost 20 years now, the coming of colder weather is heralded by that scritchity noise overhead. Fortunately, the attic over the family room is a crawl space attic that is just over the family room and garage and not connected to the rest of the house so the occasions that a rodent has gotten loose elsewhere have been rare. There is, however, some kind of small gap down one of the walls in which a little rodent sometimes has trapped itself, died and rotted. I have visions of a small pile of mummified mouse bodies if we ever tear down that wall. We would definitely prefer that they die a quick death via the traditional snap-the-neck traps rather than perfume our air with eau de rotten mouse. Poison is out because of 1) the environmental concern and 2) the aforementioned smell factor. Those lovely have-a-heart traps? Don’t really work that well for the mice although we did quite well with the groundhog that was undermining the driveway. He went to live a new life in a county park several miles away. So a smear of peanut butter on several snap traps, and a few swear words getting said traps up in the attic without premature snapping and then a week later a clean-up of tidily deceased mice. And how do you celebrate the coming of fall?

Laboratory mouse

Image via Wikipedia

Once upon a time (I think I promised Fokker this story) when our compost heap was new-ish and before we had kids, I was turning the compost with the pitchfork. This aerates the compost and helps it all break down faster. So there I am, feeling all mother earth like, knowing our compostable garbage was going to nourish the garden and not fill the land fill, practically glowing with virtue, not to mention sweat, when I lift up the pitchfork and see, completely impaled on one of its tines, a mouse. A live mouse. Still wriggling. Picture me, if you will, holding the pitchfork in the air, aghast. What do you do with a wriggling mouse impaled on a pitchfork? I carefully scraped it off and it went scampering into the woods, presumably to bleed to death in peace. That was the end of the compost turning for that day and I’m still a little squeamish about it.

And, no, we are not getting a cat. I’m allergic and none of us are cat people.

And I will end with a little poem that cracks Mom and me up every time we recite it: (have no idea where it came from)

Love to eat them mousies,

mousies what I love to eat.

Bite they little heads off,

nibble on they tiny feet.

Yesterday’s challenge which I forgot to post (sorry!) was to make a list of 3 things to do and then try to do them during the day. Supposedly the list helps you remember what you wanted to accomplish and then doing the things on the list helps reduce stress. Today’s was to share a way that you have saved money. It can be quite small, but it needs to have saved something. Let’s see, I walk the kids to the bus stop instead of driving them, so that saves gas and therefore money. I pack their lunches instead of having them buy school lunches – better nutrition and savings. I make my own chicken stock which is really easy, tastes far better than any available bought variety and is cheap as all get-out. There ya go! Share if you’ve got a good one, please!

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Responses

  1. Ah, mouse stories. You’ve got to love them. On a recent visit to Australia I sat around with a bunch of family members, and one right and proper sister. Her son, who is nearing forty told a rat story. Sister was horrified that he would tell people they had had a rat in the cupboard. I was laughing so hard I almost wet myself. My nephew is quite the storyteller. But anyway, the night soon fell apart as more wine was poured and every person there tried to top the nephew’s rat story…including me. : )

  2. Damn, I got behind for a sec there. Something changed in the ‘verse? Crap I hate missing a day!
    Also, hate mice. Thanks for the pitchfork story, glad it ended well, for you and the compost. πŸ˜‰
    Julie
    (I quit smoking, we are saving lots of money.)

    • Tuesday’s post was initially attributed to Alastair, then was erroneously corrected to Kate (which is when I saw it) and then finally corrected to Collegiate. It was confusing. But funny, too.

  3. I dislike mice, and have even declared war … but I don’t think I would go all Vlad the Impaler on their tiny asses. You are hard core! :0)

    • In my defense, it was involuntary Vlad the Impaler! πŸ™‚

  4. Ugh mice. Funny Face use to bring them home as presents. Once I woke up with a live (sluggish) mouse on my bed. The kids still laugh at me – I used the cat to pick up the mouse and they both went outside.

    • There would have been much screaming had that been me. Very loud screaming. Urgh! Great use of cat as mouse-picking-up tool!


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