I had this great heating pad...I loved it. It's not your normal heating pad...the old school kind with a cord that you plug in. No. This thing was high tech -- small, padded rectangle, with something inside (never knew what was inside), you put it in the microwave, warm it up and ahhh....relaxation. What a treat! I used it over the years and quite appreciated the ease of using it.
Mr. Country Mouse apparently also enjoys my heating pad --- and was happy to show me what was inside...corn! Yes, about two weeks ago, I opened a drawer to look for something and saw my heating pad. It was ripped open with corn all over. I knew immediately what this meant, despite being a city girl. I knew it didn't just get a hole and spill out corn. Nope, this was an animal. It had to be. I showed Josh and he said "I think I know what caused that." Really? So do I, country boy. I remain calm...for a few minutes...then I lose it a bit. I mean, come on! I don't want to share my space with these creatures. Josh is sorry, but it's not really his fault.
So with all my strength, I get it together, I smile, and I throw away my heating pad, simply saying that if I knew corn was inside, I could have probably made my own...or will now make my own, as I am sewing again, and we clearly have access to corn... but alas, this is not the end.
I know it's just a mouse. A small field mouse, likely. He can't do much harm. But I begin having visions of this mouse being out and about as I walk into the bathroom, now afraid I will step on him in the dark. Is he watching me at night? I imagine he is -- at the end of the bed -- like Ratatouille (even though that was a rat). Twitching his little whiskers, getting the last laugh on this city girl. Rationally, I have no clear thoughts on this mouse. All I see is this creature in my space.
And, he is. Because then I pull out some clothes...and yes, remenants of him nesting in my tshirts! AGH! I call Josh into the room, and he sighs. I know he is afraid I am about to lose it again. I am not about to lose it emotionally, but I have a bad gag reflex, so I am literally about to lose it. I have to leave as I am gagging over this experience. Josh sadly tells me that it would be best if we wash all the clothes that were involved in this vicinity, which leads to 3 more loads of laundry. But I don't want to wear tshirts with mouse poop on them so, after my bitterness fades, I am okay doing this laundry.
Now what? This is my big question, over and over. NOW WHAT?! I hope he's gone. But how do we know? And, even better yet, how do we keep him out again? Don't say it...I have already heard it at least five times in the last few weeks -- "get a cat", "get a dog". How does getting more animals solve my problems when I do not want the ones we have??? Two points I will make to counter this argument -- #1, our dog would stay outside so that does not help me if the mouse is already inside; and #2, if the mouse is not yet inside, I hear the dog can catch it -- and then shows up at the door with the mouse in his mouth. Not a sight I need in my life anymore than knowing I stepped on or saw a mouse in the dark. There are certain images in life you don't need.
My future in laws give me some "mice advice" -- my future mother-in-law states that sometimes the mice eat the poison, go into the walls, die between the walls, and then it will smell for about two weeks...and you can't do anything about it. Josh screams "Mom! Don't tell her that..." But, she says, "It's true and she must know the truth." Only two weeks...could be worse...
So, we bait the house -- or we talk about baiting it a lot -- and then I push my fiance on the urgency of this situation. Since we have no dog/cat or even other yard animals that we care about (see story on raccoons), Josh puts poison around the house to help keep the animals out. Yay! Now on to traps...I saw them when I moved in -- the black box traps. Where are those? Josh says, "do you know how expensive those are?" Um...first of all, no (why would I have any clue about this?); second of all, I don't want to spend a lot of money for this so I don't disagree, but; third of all, weren't we just talking about paying an exterminator to take care of a snake? Priorities...
I don't care really so I will settle for any trap that gets us 1-0 over this mouse. Josh is working on traps that he says will have peanut butter or cheese on them and trap the little guy. I said, "In my closet? So basically, I will open the closet and see him dead there?" Josh says, "Um, no, you will open your closet, hear some squeaking, and then call me and say get this mouse out of here." He won't be dead. Just trapped. Special. I celebrate animal rights everywhere.
We are still on the hunt for this mouse, and I still creep into the bathroom at night. He won't get one up on me. We will battle and I will win...because after all, Mr. Mouse, you don't mess with a girl's heating pad!
Country Livin'
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Pranks are only funny if they are really pranks!
We live in an older farm house that we are updating as we go. We have a stubborn storm door. It's not in the best shape and it does not seal well. It has been known to blow open with a strong wind, leaves and other debris can sometimes be found in the mud room, which leads to our door to go into the house (up four stairs), and the door makes noise a lot. Josh is always saying "we need to get a new door". However, in the big picture of life, a door is not your priority really.
The other thing you should know is my fiance and those in the "neighborhood", have been known to play pranks on each other from time to time. They warned me about these pranks, as I am not necessarily a fan of pranks. But boys will be boys out on the farm.
Yesterday, I came home from work. I was distracted, talking to my sister on the phone, juggling my work bag, our mail, grocceries, including milk, and I threw the door open, ready to tackle the stairs, barely glancing downward. I saw it though...out of the corner of my eye. A snake. Laying there on the second step.
I didn't scream or even react. As I said I was on the phone with my sister. In my head, I said "Oh, that's not a good prank." Josh, my fearless fiance, is not scared of much, but he did tell me about his fear of snakes. They give him the creeps, as they do for most of us, but they REALLY freak him out. They did for my grandpa too -- you couldn't even talk about them. So I understood. So when I see this "snake" laying there, I assume his buddies have played a prank and put a rubber snake there for him to find. I decide (all in my head as I am talking to my sister) that I need to get it out of there before he gets home, as he will not think it is funny, and that's just the kind of helpful fiance I am. Plus, he's working late hours so he would come home in the dark and see it, which would only make it worse.
I stumble into the house, put the bags down, still talking to my sister and open the door leading back to the steps and the mud room to get this stupid rubber snake out of there. As I step downward towards it though, it moves. Maybe? Just a little. Did that just really happen? Surely I am now freaking myself out. So I stomp my foot a little harder on the next step, and the snake moves for real...and now I scream and gasp...and my sister wonders what is going on. Oh crap. That's a real snake...practically in our house!
Now I don't love snakes, but I am still thinking it is my responsibility to get rid of this thing before Josh gets home. But I tell my sister, I don't have a clue how to get a snake out of your house. She helps me brainstorm, but with our city ways, we really don't have a clue. So I stand there staring at it, while it peacefully lays near the door of our house. How did this darn thing get in here? All I know is that I can't just put it right outside the door as it will be back.
I hang up with my sister and I make the dreaded call to my fiance. He's in a tractor, I can hear it, and I sweetly say "I hate to bother you..." I know he will not want to hear this news. I don't need him to take care of it, as I know this is his worst nightmare (one he is not afraid to claim, even in his most manly moments), but I need advice. You see, in the city, we don't find snakes in our house often, and I don't know what to do or who to get to help me. This is not welcomed news to my fiance. He wants to know where it is, how big it is, and I can tell from his voice that this is not going to be a good situation. I offer to take care of it, I offer to call his dad, I basically offer to do anything I can to help...but he says he is on his way there, and I should just "keep an eye on that little bugger". So I wait and I watch him.
As Josh arrives home, he cautiously pushes the door open to peek in at this snake. A snake I have been close to many times already (and am so thankful was off to the right hand side or in my distraction of getting into the house, I would have found said snake under my foot! Then I might have been the one who needed counseling instead of my fiance). He calls his friend, Sean, to come help. He is surprised how close I will get to the snake, so I try to help with the process as best we can, as Sean is 20 minutes out and this is a crisis.
If you don't know Josh, you won't know that he opposite of me in many ways. He's the calm one. He's the laid back one. He's the one with patience. He teases me about my lack of these traits sometimes, especially patience. My friends, I want you to know what I saw in that moment was none of those traits -- and it was glorious! He was not calm and he was not patient. He couldn't wait for Sean, or come up with a plan with me. We paid the price. He got brave and went after the snake, with much struggle and much swearing. We got the snake outside, which was good, but the snake got pissed. And as we struggled to get it into a container to dispose of it, the snake slithered away -- yes, slithered so quickly in the blink of an eye. My fiance did not like this -- he got pissed right back. He went after the snake, calling him a lot of names, and stepped on his tail with full force. And that is when I had to look away and cringe. Yuck.
So I thought we were done, except for another animal carcuss. But apparently stepping on a snake does not kill him, and Josh moved his foot...and the snake left. But by leaving, I mean he slithered alongside the crack in the foundation by the house, getting away or at least burrowing himself into a new location. This did not make Josh happy at all. (I wasn't thrilled either). He said he did not want that snake getting into our house, into the basement, and I could finally agree with this thought process. But he was gone. We couldn't do anything.
I suggested we spray Raid in the crack. This is often my solution for unwanted pests, as my K-State staff will recall a certain gecco getting into my apartment and my mad Raid skills taking care of him. But, apparently this is not the solution for snakes in the country. He is very concerned about this snake, when Sean finally arrives. They hatch plans but none of them work because, as I get down on my hands and knees near the foundation crack, with a flashlight, I inform them that the snake is gone. Nothing there.
Josh says he now has to hire an exterminator. (I want to laugh but I don't). Um...okay. I understand this fear. I really do. Because I don't want a snake in our house, nor do I want many other things, like mice. I remind him though that I have seen a dead mouse in the basement, and no one seems concerned about that. He said "Dead mice I can handle. Live mice I can handle. Not a snake." Okay. I get it. But when I don't want the mice, I hope we get as urgent about the exterminator as we are in this moment -- and if not, I will show him this blog as a reminder.
It gave me the creeps. I almost reached out and grabbed that snake thinking it was a prank. I would have been traumatized. As a loved one told me, "With the bird and now the snake, I would be OUT of there!" Farm life. Although Josh says that is not it -- he says he has never seen a snake there before. Well, it does stay in your mind, although we were not allowed to discuss it anymore. The snake, similiar to Voldemort in the Harry Potter series, is he-who-shall-not-be-named in our household. When I left this morning, I did look down at my feet through my journey in the mud room and out the door.
And, after much chaos, drama, swearing, fear, and panic...Josh says we are getting a new door THIS weekend!
The other thing you should know is my fiance and those in the "neighborhood", have been known to play pranks on each other from time to time. They warned me about these pranks, as I am not necessarily a fan of pranks. But boys will be boys out on the farm.
Yesterday, I came home from work. I was distracted, talking to my sister on the phone, juggling my work bag, our mail, grocceries, including milk, and I threw the door open, ready to tackle the stairs, barely glancing downward. I saw it though...out of the corner of my eye. A snake. Laying there on the second step.
I didn't scream or even react. As I said I was on the phone with my sister. In my head, I said "Oh, that's not a good prank." Josh, my fearless fiance, is not scared of much, but he did tell me about his fear of snakes. They give him the creeps, as they do for most of us, but they REALLY freak him out. They did for my grandpa too -- you couldn't even talk about them. So I understood. So when I see this "snake" laying there, I assume his buddies have played a prank and put a rubber snake there for him to find. I decide (all in my head as I am talking to my sister) that I need to get it out of there before he gets home, as he will not think it is funny, and that's just the kind of helpful fiance I am. Plus, he's working late hours so he would come home in the dark and see it, which would only make it worse.
I stumble into the house, put the bags down, still talking to my sister and open the door leading back to the steps and the mud room to get this stupid rubber snake out of there. As I step downward towards it though, it moves. Maybe? Just a little. Did that just really happen? Surely I am now freaking myself out. So I stomp my foot a little harder on the next step, and the snake moves for real...and now I scream and gasp...and my sister wonders what is going on. Oh crap. That's a real snake...practically in our house!
Now I don't love snakes, but I am still thinking it is my responsibility to get rid of this thing before Josh gets home. But I tell my sister, I don't have a clue how to get a snake out of your house. She helps me brainstorm, but with our city ways, we really don't have a clue. So I stand there staring at it, while it peacefully lays near the door of our house. How did this darn thing get in here? All I know is that I can't just put it right outside the door as it will be back.
I hang up with my sister and I make the dreaded call to my fiance. He's in a tractor, I can hear it, and I sweetly say "I hate to bother you..." I know he will not want to hear this news. I don't need him to take care of it, as I know this is his worst nightmare (one he is not afraid to claim, even in his most manly moments), but I need advice. You see, in the city, we don't find snakes in our house often, and I don't know what to do or who to get to help me. This is not welcomed news to my fiance. He wants to know where it is, how big it is, and I can tell from his voice that this is not going to be a good situation. I offer to take care of it, I offer to call his dad, I basically offer to do anything I can to help...but he says he is on his way there, and I should just "keep an eye on that little bugger". So I wait and I watch him.
As Josh arrives home, he cautiously pushes the door open to peek in at this snake. A snake I have been close to many times already (and am so thankful was off to the right hand side or in my distraction of getting into the house, I would have found said snake under my foot! Then I might have been the one who needed counseling instead of my fiance). He calls his friend, Sean, to come help. He is surprised how close I will get to the snake, so I try to help with the process as best we can, as Sean is 20 minutes out and this is a crisis.
If you don't know Josh, you won't know that he opposite of me in many ways. He's the calm one. He's the laid back one. He's the one with patience. He teases me about my lack of these traits sometimes, especially patience. My friends, I want you to know what I saw in that moment was none of those traits -- and it was glorious! He was not calm and he was not patient. He couldn't wait for Sean, or come up with a plan with me. We paid the price. He got brave and went after the snake, with much struggle and much swearing. We got the snake outside, which was good, but the snake got pissed. And as we struggled to get it into a container to dispose of it, the snake slithered away -- yes, slithered so quickly in the blink of an eye. My fiance did not like this -- he got pissed right back. He went after the snake, calling him a lot of names, and stepped on his tail with full force. And that is when I had to look away and cringe. Yuck.
So I thought we were done, except for another animal carcuss. But apparently stepping on a snake does not kill him, and Josh moved his foot...and the snake left. But by leaving, I mean he slithered alongside the crack in the foundation by the house, getting away or at least burrowing himself into a new location. This did not make Josh happy at all. (I wasn't thrilled either). He said he did not want that snake getting into our house, into the basement, and I could finally agree with this thought process. But he was gone. We couldn't do anything.
I suggested we spray Raid in the crack. This is often my solution for unwanted pests, as my K-State staff will recall a certain gecco getting into my apartment and my mad Raid skills taking care of him. But, apparently this is not the solution for snakes in the country. He is very concerned about this snake, when Sean finally arrives. They hatch plans but none of them work because, as I get down on my hands and knees near the foundation crack, with a flashlight, I inform them that the snake is gone. Nothing there.
Josh says he now has to hire an exterminator. (I want to laugh but I don't). Um...okay. I understand this fear. I really do. Because I don't want a snake in our house, nor do I want many other things, like mice. I remind him though that I have seen a dead mouse in the basement, and no one seems concerned about that. He said "Dead mice I can handle. Live mice I can handle. Not a snake." Okay. I get it. But when I don't want the mice, I hope we get as urgent about the exterminator as we are in this moment -- and if not, I will show him this blog as a reminder.
It gave me the creeps. I almost reached out and grabbed that snake thinking it was a prank. I would have been traumatized. As a loved one told me, "With the bird and now the snake, I would be OUT of there!" Farm life. Although Josh says that is not it -- he says he has never seen a snake there before. Well, it does stay in your mind, although we were not allowed to discuss it anymore. The snake, similiar to Voldemort in the Harry Potter series, is he-who-shall-not-be-named in our household. When I left this morning, I did look down at my feet through my journey in the mud room and out the door.
And, after much chaos, drama, swearing, fear, and panic...Josh says we are getting a new door THIS weekend!
Monday, October 3, 2011
There once was a bird...
Last week, Thursday, I was driving on the country road. I approached three birds. I didn't worry or slow down much, as birds "get it" and they fly away. I approached them and sure enough, they flew... except one wasn't so fast. No spring chicken, this bird! So, I hit him.
All I hear is this noise -- "whoomp" -- and I cringe. Realizing I hit the bird because he couldn't follow his friends fast enough. Bummer. I don't think much about it. I figure he is dead on the road and it's the result of living in the country. We all have to face those!
Friday, I am running some errands, and I go around the front of my car (who ever does that?)...and there, stuck in the grill of my car, is the bird mentioned above. Oh my gosh -- a bird stuck in my car! How is this happening to me?! I can handle it though, I figure...so I try to get the bird unstuck and out of my grill, but it's stubborn, apparently. (I only tried so hard before I decided it was gross).
Next best thing is to send Josh a text: "I might have hit a bird, and it might have gotten stuck in the grill on my car. If that is the case, can you help me get it out?" I knew he would laugh at me but this was serious. A bird was all up in my grill!!! He agreed to help because I was cute in asking and he felt sorry for me...and he's a country man, so I figured he had more experience with animals (remember the raccoons?!).
When I got home, I didn't want to park my car in the garage -- I had no idea if dead birds would smell (remember the skunk?!). We didn't have time to deal with dead bird before getting out of town and we were taking Josh's car anyway. He offered to put the car away but I felt like a dead bird in the garage was not a good idea.
Sunday, we come home, and as we are pulling into the farm, Josh says he will get the bird taken care of, as we both almost forgot. We pull alongside my car. I look. No bird. Gone. Nothing.
He laughs -- says an animal must have taken care of it. I am stunned, just staring at the car (and he knows it was there because he saw it on Friday). What? An animal...came close to our car (which is near the house), pulled dead bird out of the grill, and took it away for us? No way. This is not even possible. I said, "Surely not. I am sure your Dad saw it and just helped us out." Josh said "Maybe, but I don't think so. I think it was an animal." I just keep saying "Are you kidding?" Even as we are walking into the house, I am in disbelief about an animal coming to take this bird carcuss off my hands.
We saw Jimmy, my future father in law, that night. I ask him about said bird...he says no. Never saw it. Oh my gosh... seriously?! This is crazy...
All I hear is this noise -- "whoomp" -- and I cringe. Realizing I hit the bird because he couldn't follow his friends fast enough. Bummer. I don't think much about it. I figure he is dead on the road and it's the result of living in the country. We all have to face those!
Friday, I am running some errands, and I go around the front of my car (who ever does that?)...and there, stuck in the grill of my car, is the bird mentioned above. Oh my gosh -- a bird stuck in my car! How is this happening to me?! I can handle it though, I figure...so I try to get the bird unstuck and out of my grill, but it's stubborn, apparently. (I only tried so hard before I decided it was gross).
Next best thing is to send Josh a text: "I might have hit a bird, and it might have gotten stuck in the grill on my car. If that is the case, can you help me get it out?" I knew he would laugh at me but this was serious. A bird was all up in my grill!!! He agreed to help because I was cute in asking and he felt sorry for me...and he's a country man, so I figured he had more experience with animals (remember the raccoons?!).
When I got home, I didn't want to park my car in the garage -- I had no idea if dead birds would smell (remember the skunk?!). We didn't have time to deal with dead bird before getting out of town and we were taking Josh's car anyway. He offered to put the car away but I felt like a dead bird in the garage was not a good idea.
Sunday, we come home, and as we are pulling into the farm, Josh says he will get the bird taken care of, as we both almost forgot. We pull alongside my car. I look. No bird. Gone. Nothing.
He laughs -- says an animal must have taken care of it. I am stunned, just staring at the car (and he knows it was there because he saw it on Friday). What? An animal...came close to our car (which is near the house), pulled dead bird out of the grill, and took it away for us? No way. This is not even possible. I said, "Surely not. I am sure your Dad saw it and just helped us out." Josh said "Maybe, but I don't think so. I think it was an animal." I just keep saying "Are you kidding?" Even as we are walking into the house, I am in disbelief about an animal coming to take this bird carcuss off my hands.
We saw Jimmy, my future father in law, that night. I ask him about said bird...he says no. Never saw it. Oh my gosh... seriously?! This is crazy...
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