Ok, so here’s the whole sordid story:
Awhile back we put in a new kitchen counter. At first Hubby and I thought we could do this ourselves. We were trying to change the taps and got stuck, so we put them back on. Or so we thought. But then there was this big bang and first one, then another geyser spewed forth from where the knobs used to be. (The knobs were now bouncing around in the kitchen.)
Our daughter heard all this from her room, said to herself, “oh my God, they’re plumbing!” and promptly hid under her covers.
Hubby and I decided we really ought to get help, so we called on a handy man type fella. Together he and hubby took out the old outfit and put in the new counter. While they were doing this they took out a few extra pipes that were just there, doin’ nothin’. This left holes in the floor under the new counter. We don’t have a basement. Underneath the kitchen is a crawl space. A crawl space into which tiny wildlife types generally move when the weather turns cold. You know, like mice for instance.
I thought everything was under control when they were putting in the counter. I went out to pick up a few things. I left the MEN to look after things. Which is to say, no one thought to plug up the holes in the kitchen floor from the extraneous pipes BEFORE putting in the new counter. Yep. So here come the li’l miceys with their tiny suitcases just as soon as that autumn breeze blows a little cold. Into the crawl space under the kitchen they squeeze. They look up.
Ok, excuse me a minute while I work on this WRITTEN INVITATION to the tiny creatures to move into the house proper. *sigh*
So we see evidence that there are mice in the kitchen. No, no... this will not do. We have cats. We have steel wool with which to plug those holes. Better late than never, right?
Longer story
, shorter:
There are two cats. They sleep a lot. *yawn* You want us to catch what?? One cat just happens to be standing by her food dish when the mouse peeps out from under the counter. She takes a swipe at it. She misses; it scurries back under. She shrugs, scratches her ear, goes in search of a comfy place to flop.
Awhile back we put in a new kitchen counter. At first Hubby and I thought we could do this ourselves. We were trying to change the taps and got stuck, so we put them back on. Or so we thought. But then there was this big bang and first one, then another geyser spewed forth from where the knobs used to be. (The knobs were now bouncing around in the kitchen.)
Our daughter heard all this from her room, said to herself, “oh my God, they’re plumbing!” and promptly hid under her covers.
Hubby and I decided we really ought to get help, so we called on a handy man type fella. Together he and hubby took out the old outfit and put in the new counter. While they were doing this they took out a few extra pipes that were just there, doin’ nothin’. This left holes in the floor under the new counter. We don’t have a basement. Underneath the kitchen is a crawl space. A crawl space into which tiny wildlife types generally move when the weather turns cold. You know, like mice for instance.
I thought everything was under control when they were putting in the counter. I went out to pick up a few things. I left the MEN to look after things. Which is to say, no one thought to plug up the holes in the kitchen floor from the extraneous pipes BEFORE putting in the new counter. Yep. So here come the li’l miceys with their tiny suitcases just as soon as that autumn breeze blows a little cold. Into the crawl space under the kitchen they squeeze. They look up.
Ok, excuse me a minute while I work on this WRITTEN INVITATION to the tiny creatures to move into the house proper. *sigh*
So we see evidence that there are mice in the kitchen. No, no... this will not do. We have cats. We have steel wool with which to plug those holes. Better late than never, right?
Longer story
, shorter:There are two cats. They sleep a lot. *yawn* You want us to catch what?? One cat just happens to be standing by her food dish when the mouse peeps out from under the counter. She takes a swipe at it. She misses; it scurries back under. She shrugs, scratches her ear, goes in search of a comfy place to flop.
Irony: the mouse seems to be thriving on little pieces of cat food. My life is fraught with little ironies.
It's a little grey mouse. He seems to be alone. Hubby plugged up the holes, apparently trapping the lone, adventuresome mouse on this side of the holes. (Mouse: “Hey! Who locked the doors??”) Hubby put out a “humane” trap. The mouse PLAYS with it. Like the guy who bungee jumps for kicks, this mouse routinely goes into the “humane” trap and wrestles around for awhile. He is NEVER in there when Hubby checks the trap.
There’s an elusive dust bunny under my couch. I’ve gone after it with a broom. I’ve gone after it with a duster. I’ve gone after it with a vacuum. It’s a dancing dust bunny and it dances around under there out the way of any weapon I bring to the battle. I wrestle with it. It wins.
So last night, I was sitting here, by the fire, using this computer, the cats were sleeping contentedly, the dog was snoring beside me, and I heard noises. It occurred to me that maybe the dust bunny was trying to catch the mouse. Now, you can say what you want, but I think they were actually dancing. I really do. While the fire crackled on one side of me and the animals all slept, the mouse and dust bunny were tripping the light fantastic in the dark corners of my wee house. I know it. *sigh*
There’s an elusive dust bunny under my couch. I’ve gone after it with a broom. I’ve gone after it with a duster. I’ve gone after it with a vacuum. It’s a dancing dust bunny and it dances around under there out the way of any weapon I bring to the battle. I wrestle with it. It wins.
So last night, I was sitting here, by the fire, using this computer, the cats were sleeping contentedly, the dog was snoring beside me, and I heard noises. It occurred to me that maybe the dust bunny was trying to catch the mouse. Now, you can say what you want, but I think they were actually dancing. I really do. While the fire crackled on one side of me and the animals all slept, the mouse and dust bunny were tripping the light fantastic in the dark corners of my wee house. I know it. *sigh*
At least they have each other *grin*
ReplyDeleteHaving my way, I'd banish them both to the crawl space. ;p
ReplyDelete