DAY 22

 

T’was the night before Christmas when all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; . . .

WOULD THAT THIS WERE TRUE!!

 

I was using the bathroom the other evening, minding my own business, when a mouse darted around the corner on a tear. “Arrrrrgh!” I cried. The mouse, as startled as I was, lost its balance, immediately righted itself, and continued on to the utility room at warp speed and disappeared. But I wasn't fooled. I knew it was there somewhere.

“There’s a mouse in here!” I screeched.

So, we gathered as many mousetraps as we could find – four in all, and Mike loaded them with peanut butter and placed them strategically – one in the utility room, one in the living room, one in my sewing room, AND MOST ESPECIALLY, one for the pantry. Recalling the time that a mouse ate its fill of nuts out of the nut and grain bread leaving a pile of fine bread crumbs on the counter, I immediately put the bread in the cupboard.

We didn’t trap the mouse overnight, but I noticed that the peanut butter had apparently been stolen from the trap in the pantry, so Mike exchanged that trap for the one with the “hair trigger.” Within half an hour, we caught that guy!

“We’ll leave the traps out for a while to catch the other one,” Mike said.

“There’s another one?” I asked.

“Oh, probably,” he responded. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

But I know he's right. We may -- or may not -- have another mouse in the house right now, but the potential always exists.

Ina never speaks of the mice, rats, or other rodents, but we know she had them, and they are not to be tolerated! She probably took them in stride better than I do, and her foodstuff was different -- less processed food in boxes and bags -- and she undoubtedly protected what she had in jars and cans. They say that mice are especially attracted to nuts, but take it from me – they’ll eat most anything in a pinch, including soap, and they like paper and fuzzy stuff for their nests. And if you feed your dog kibble -- well, that's a big attraction. KW

[The Christmas card posted here was sent by my parents to the families of their piano students.]

STAYING VIGILANT IN THE GREAT RODENT WAR

November

I love my new dishwasher. It’s such a joy to put clean dishes in the cupboard. They not only look clean but they feel clean. I am confident that they ARE clean.

Nevertheless, this past week I felt that something else was off in my kitchen. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but my senses were on alert. I checked under the sink. I looked in the pantry. I pulled out the drawer under the stove. And I kept thinking that I should put away the bread on the counter. And then I’d wander off and forget about it . . .

. . . until Friday morning, that is. “WHAT’S THIS?” I screamed before I became speechless in utter horror.

It looked like a pile of granola but the texture was moist. Mike admitted to having spilled there but said he thought he had cleaned it up. This pile was too large to have been overlooked. “Let me smell it,” said Mike. (I wasn’t going to get that close to it.) “It smells like bread.”

That’s because it WAS bread, and of course, we knew this was the doing of the mice. At first glance, the loaf of bread appeared to be untouched, but when I turned it over, I saw that the mice had gnawed a hole in the sack and proceeded to shred the bread. And now that I think about it, the bread was “nut and grain.” I think they shredded out the bread in the effort to find the nuts. (They are a trifle cagey so you have to learn to think like they do.)

Winter weather day -- the snow won't last

I found the traps and the bait. Mike set up the traps, leaving two on the counter, one under the sink, one around the corner in the living room, and one in the pantry. Saturday morning we found mice in both traps on the counter, and it evidently happened soon after we went to bed. It was just a given that they would return to that spot. Mike identified them as one of each sex. A mating pair? That could mean more bad news. However, we did not see more mice today.

Where did they get in? Will we have more? Is there a nest? We don’t know the answers, but it’s clear that we mustn’t assume we have won the war. We must remain vigilant. I know they’re lurking somewhere, waiting until I’ve dropped my guard, waiting until I’m in bed to invade my supplies. Yes, they’re lurking.

November Display -- Thanksgiving at Grandma's

And the other thing is the spiders. I’ve killed two a day for a week. I’ve always heard that spiders are more apparent in the house when cold weather is coming. It’s predicted, especially in the upper country. On this gray day it’s spitting snow in the valley. KW

BESS AND ME IN TOWN, DAY 2 ½ -- OR, THERE REALLY IS A MOUSE IN HERE

Thursday, Aug. 13
To go back two weeks, the evening before Mike left on his motocaching trip, we were watching tv when he said, “Did you see THAT? A mouse just raced from over there to behind the tv.” No, I didn’t see it, but I was dismayed. He called Bess, and she showed only mild interest. Mike decided he was seeing things, but the fact that Bess was willing to look made me think he really did see a mouse.

The next morning as I packed for the farm, I discovered Bess on alert and sniffing around the living room. This was disconcerting. I think not only of our pantry but also the closets in my sewing room full of yarn, fiberfill, and other textiles that mice love. Our traps are on the farm, so I set out a couple of those sticky trays. I caught nothing.

Visiting my pantry late Tuesday night, I heard a slight rustling. A mouse? Nah! I convinced myself that my robe just brushed against a box. “Yes, that’s it,” I reassured myself.  

Late Wednesday night, as I approached the kitchen sink, something dark darted along the wall behind the faucet. I let out a silent “EEEEEK!” Mustering my courage, I looked among the clutter on the counter, and there it was – a mouse! From there he darted into the corner. I immediately went to the cupboard for the sticky trays, returning just in time to see the mouse disappear behind the stove. I placed a tray in front of the stove and one in front of the pantry door and then went off for a night of uneasy rest. And yes, I did trap that mouse. Honestly, I hated to deal with disposal. A killer I am not, but you don’t want these critters in your house. Damage to foodstuffs and textiles aside, they aren’t clean.

I had planned a morning of cleaning prior to Mike’s return this afternoon, but whatever I planned to do was off the list now. Cleaning the pantry must take priority. I tossed packets of instant oatmeal that had been gnawed. He had invaded an open box of brown sugar Malt-o-Meal (Mike’s favorite and hard to find), so out it went. And he gnawed a hole in the plastic lid of a can of mixed nuts. I examined every box and I even considered just tossing them all, but if I saw no damage, I put them back.

The bright spot in this day (aside from Mike’s return, of course) was that the mail lady delivered my “Christmas Cookie Outfit,” from Tea Time Fabric Panels. That’s why we have gifts. They lift our spirits.

I picked Mike up at the airport at 1:00 and told him the saga of the mouse. Never mind that he’s returning from a visit with our children. The mouse debacle takes precedence.

The question remains as to how many mice we have and how long they’ve been cavorting in our house. We just don’t know. I plan to buy storage containers for our cereal and grain products, something I’ve never bothered to do. “They’re expensive,” I complained to Mike, but he agreed we should do it. KW

BESS REDEEMS HERSELF

A November evening in Clarkston

Years ago, I was visiting my sister Joni in her country home. I don’t remember what we were doing, but she opened a linen drawer in her kitchen to get something. Uttering an exclamation of disgust, she said “Smell that? That’s mouse smell. The mice have been in this drawer.”

Joni is now of an age when she prefers to leave the driving to someone else. When she has errands here in the “big city,” she rides to town with her daughter, who works at a furniture store, and then I take over and chauffeur her to her errands. Such was the case yesterday (Wednesday, 11-7). We had extra time in the afternoon, so I brought her home with me for a while.

Joni was sitting at the kitchen table while Mike bundled our trash. I went to the cupboard under the kitchen sink to get a fresh trash sack, and as I opened the door, I immediately discerned movement coupled with squeaking. I shrieked and instinctively slammed the cupboard door, which fortunately trapped the mouse between the door and the center post. (Couldn’t have done that if I’d tried.) Mike called to Bess who rushed to my aid, sniffing out the culprit. She snatched the critter and headed outside. And that’s what you want – to get the mouse out of the house.

Discussion ensued. At this time of year, as temperatures drop, the mice come in, and Joni explained that water pipes are favorite points of egress. She had wrapped steel wool around hers, she said. I’m not sure that works in the modular home set-up because the pipes are behind a partial partition, but I’ll look into it. Meanwhile, I’ll continue with the traps and expand to the bathroom sinks.

When Bess re-entered the house, she received high praise from “Aunt” Joni, a knowledgeable dog-lover. “GOOD DOG,” she said. “Very GOOD to take the mouse outside. You are a GOOD DOG.” KW

ANOTHER BATTLE IN THE GREAT RODENT WAR

An autumn day -- clearing after the rain

Last year we had at least one mouse under the kitchen sink in this modular home. I cleaned it thoroughly, then set a trap and also left a block of poison in the back behind my cleaning supplies. I kept an eye on the trap center until finally I more or less forgot about it . . . until this morning, that is.

Cleaning under the sink

As I got ready to run the dishwasher, my nostrils were assailed when I opened the cupboard to get the detergent. I really wanted to dismiss it as silver polish, but wisdom prevailed, and I discovered that indeed, we had a mouse in trap. It had been there a while – both living and dead. I apprised Mike (who was watching football) of the situation. With a twinkle in his eye, he advised me to bundle it in plastic and toss – so I did. Then I made a sinkful of hot soapy water and cleaned everything in that cupboard. (Actually, my under-the-sink cupboard is one of my cleanest.)

"I don't smell anything."

"Neither do I."

And I tell you something else – We have two hunting dogs in this house, and they both hunt rodents in the field, but do you think they showed any interest? No! The dogs slept on. I mean, my nose told me, so they had to know. 

Soon I'll be finishing a doll dress in my sewing room. This evening? -- a little shopping for a reward or two. KW