Monday, March 19, 2007

These Aren't Mickey & Minnie Mouse I'm Battling!

Mice.

Usually people are battling them as it's getting cold when they come in looking for shelter and food. So why am I all of a sudden plagued by mice like it's the medieval days? Good question but I still don't know the answer. I just know that I've got a big mouse problem and it's gross. And growing.

I've been seeing their little calling cards laying around here and there throughout the winter. But living (sort of) out in the country I learned a long time ago that we would be getting visits from all kinds of unpleasant creatures. Such as those huge horrible spiders that I think they call wood spiders or tree spiders. I'm not sure about that but my grandmother told me that they come around when you live on a farm or have a lot of trees on your property. And since we live where the houses are spread far apart and there are woods surrounding us to some extent I learned quickly that we deal with spiders, snakes and mice. Not to mention the raccoons and opossums that wander onto your deck or rummage around in your trash cans looking for food. The first time I saw one of those spiders I about had heart failure at his size. His body was as big as or bigger than a quarter and that didn't include his hairy legs. My grandmother said, "Well step on him! You're bigger than he is!" My response was something like, "Are you kidding? What if he grabs my foot and twists it off?" So she goes stomping out there with her "grandmother" shoes and knocks him to the ground and plows her foot straight down on top of him with all her might. Spider innards went squirting out from each side of her foot as she gave me a disapproving look like, "You city people are such babies!"

We're not city people anymore! Now I deal with critters. So on Monday after dropping mom off at the grocery store for her 2 hour shopping trip (that is another story altogether) I came home to work on a paper for school. I opened my front door to be assaulted with Mice Smell! I wrinkled my nose and waved my hand back and forth in front of my face trying to dissipate the odor. "Oh My God! Where is that horrid smell coming from?" I call Dwight to report the offensive smell and he informs me that he smelled it too before leaving and discovered that a mouse must have crawled under the fridge and died. He further informs me that a few nights before he had heard the fan in the fridge make a clunking noise and something fell. Then Toby sat there with his head cocked staring at the refrigerator for a long while. He believes a mouse may have met his death in the fan and is now lying there bloating up and smelling like something the CSI team might investigate. Ah the smell of decomp.

Great. Just friggin' wonderful.

The night before we had bought new traps and baited them with cheese and sat them in the office, the kitchen and the living room. By morning we had emptied them and reset them again. Ah, the power of cheese! The little bastards have been on my desk rummaging around and shredding up precious pictures. I've been scanning them and have laid them aside not expecting mice to chew them up. Plus I have a room where I burn incense, light candles and just listen to music or meditate. It's got lots of pillows on the floor and some book shelves. The little shits have been on my bookshelves leaving their 'presents' for me. Wandering over my tarot bags making them smell "mousey". I feel so violated! So this is war. These aren't Mickey and Minnie Mouse. They must DIE!

I suggested Dwight bring up the older vacuum that has paper bags we can throw away afterwards. I use it downstairs to suck up bird seed and this way we can just toss it out. I heard him yell and come stumbling up the steps with it. "What in heavens name is wrong?"

"No less than 5 baby mice ran out of the vacuum just now. We're overrun with mice!" He was shocked and horrified.

Pulling out the fridge revealed an apparent mouse cemetery. Why we haven't smelled the little bastards after they died is beyond me. I don't even want to think we got used to the odor. I don't think that's it. I think the DCon we put out last year dried them up after they died before they could rot. Oh my God it was a disgusting mess. The back had to come off the refrigerator and a mouse nest removed. It took hours to clean it all up. While he did that I busied myself rearranging our bedroom. I really didn't want to participate in the mouse fiasco.

We decided we needed to pull a President Bush and order a Shock and Awe against the mouse population in our home. We set traps everywhere we could think of. Downstairs around the bird cages, traps got set. Some with cheese and some with peanut butter. They seem to like the seed the birds throw on the floor. I also set one in my "room" downstairs. It didn't take long, maybe overnight and the traps filled up. Snapping every few hours. We'd hear them snap and then laugh maniacally. The piles of DCon are rapidly disappearing. There isn't any point in going through and cleaning up after them until they're all gone. I'm amazed and disgusted at the same time at how many there are and we're still killing them.

Apparently they're coming in around the electrical feed through the conduit which seems to have separated. Then they run down through the electrical box and into the house. This particular piece of conduit cannot be gotten to without ripping off the deck. They seem to breed like rabbits. I thought it was bad last year when we seemed to be overwhelmed by ants but mice really take the cake. No pun intended.

If this doesn't get rid of them I may have to call General Norman Schwarzkopf and get some tips on winning this war. I'm just horrified.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Ebayer's Anonymous?

Help!! Do they have a recovery group for Ebayers? You know, like gamblers anonymous, or alcoholics anonymous? I can see it now: "Hi my name is Donna and I'm an Ebayer." (The people in the group will all nod their heads and mumble, "Hello Donna"....with that knowingness that only others who suffer the same affliction can provide. I will be standing there admitting that yes I did win the crystal parrot brooch that I bid on only to turn around and bid on another cool one I saw. You know you're hooked when you time your watch so you can be sure and rush home to your computer for the final minutes. Hell I even signed up to get a cell phone alert going-3 minutes before closing just in case I couldn't be there. At an additional 25 or 50 cents or more each time they do it. The final phone bill will tell the tale. That appears to be a new addition to the Ebay "experience" as they call it. NEVER have I ever sat breathlessly, continually refreshing the page, counting down the minutes and then seconds to see if the bid I put in at the last minute is going to be outdone. My heart was pounding, my breathing accelerated and my upper lip was perspiring. Notice I said perspiring rather than sweat. Ladies perspire, men sweat. FYI in case you didn't know. Aren't these classic signs of addiction? I understand that casino gamblers can call 1-all-bets-off and they will be banned from gambling in the big casinos. So I have come up with a number 1-800-no2-ebay। That should do it!

Anyway, back to my bid. I'm sitting there counting down the last seconds, in the last minute and finally it states YOU ARE THE WINNING BIDDER! I jumped up from my chair flinging my arms around & yelling "YES! I won!", knocking over my drink in the process (I have to drink out of mugs with lids because I'm such a klutz), then scaring the hell out of my Shih Tzu's with my outburst. Since that is behavior they rarely see they went running in terror from the room. Of course if I don't get that 12 step program for people hopelessly addicted to Ebay I might be scaring them a lot more in the future. Poor little darlings. I found them huddled under the dining room table shaking. I consoled them and explained it was all good news and got them excited and running around barking at me. It became a game then.

It seems that our weather here in Missouri has gone from the 30's & 40's to over 80 degrees today. And add to it the March winds blowing anything and everything into the next state. Forget about fixing your hair and dig out your shorts because this week those coats and boots hanging by the door aren't needed. Next week they might be but today they weren't. We are used to having several seasons of clothing laying out here in Misery..uh..Missouri. Tomorrow promises to be more of the high temperatures and blowing wind. This time I'm taking my mother to the city for a doctors appointment. I'll be transferring her off at my father-in-laws house to my sisters car and she will drive her over into Kansas City while I go back to the nursing home and check on Harold. Driving in the city makes me a total nervous wreck. Totally. People are just crazy when they drive. And most have no patience for people like me who don't know where they are going or are trying to find alternate routes at the last second because of road construction. I understand Missouri has the worst roads in the nation, or so I read somewhere. This does not surprise me. You can immediately tell when you've crossed the line over the Mighty Mo and into Kansas because the roads immediately turn smooth like you're riding on glass. Sometimes I just feel like Alice in Wonderland here. I won't even touch that area right now. Maybe another post.

Driving in the wind doesn't make it pleasant either. I have been stopped on windy days for suspicion of drunk driving. Seriously! I was in another vehicle that handled differently. I think the trooper thought I was weird, but he's not the first and won't be the last. I'll have to remember not to let anything else blow out of the car that I might have to chase across the parking lot again like my last visit to the Home/Prison. This time I'm not taking anything for Harold other than some new jogging suits, clean laundry and his beloved milk shake that he has made me promise to bring each time I visit. I guess nursing home food leaves a lot to be desired as does anything else in one.

Now that I think about it, I am going to have a load again. Maybe I need one of those wire baskets on wheels older people use. I mean, why not? Mom gave me her old walker, as she got a new one. She explained that "you never know when it might come in handy." I started to laugh at her and tell her, "I'm young! I don't need no stinking walker!" But then I remembered the times I've been laid up unable to walk, from back pain, only to use the furniture as a crutch or a stick or umbrella. Jeez age sneaks up on us! So maybe a wire basket on wheels is a good idea after all. I suppose in ten years or less I'll be driving a motorized scooter around town.

God just shoot me now.

More later.......