There's no more room for denial: we have mice. Sure, you can tell yourself that perhaps… just maybe… someone has been playing with black licorice sprinkles on the counter. Or maybe, just maybe there's a tiny Thumbelina-sized Carmen, sneaking in at night, rolling tiny black cigars on her thighs. But when you actually SEE a mouse, there's no more room for fiction. The cold weather has brought them in perhaps. And it could be that the stumpy-tailed "L'il Pricey" the cat, who recently was released into the basement, has been driving them up through the floor into the kitchen. (On the other hand, one could hope that she's eating at least some of them…) But in any case, in the last few days I've seen SEVERAL mice. Scurrying from the defunct dishwasher to the stove, rushing about under the fridge, and worst of all disappearing behind the wooden knife block on top of the counter.
A sure sign we have, and have had, too many mice in our life: when I saw these mice– after the usual screaming and leaping on a chair, that no amount of familiarity seems to deter– I noticed, hey, these mice are really something. I mean, really FAT, and so sleek, and look how shiny their fur is! Wow! Country living must really be great for mice. These mice put our scrawny, bony little city mice to shame! And then at about 4 a.m. the other night a dreadful thought occurred to me: what if they're R—rrr — rats??? I mentioned this terrible notion to Ben, who had seen a rodent that morning near the stove. He said bluntly, "No. It was NOT a rat. It was just a mouse, maybe slightly medium-sized, but certainly a MOUSE." Then I reviewed some photos of rats, consulted with my mother (always such a great resource on these matters) and determined definitively that they are not rats. Healthy rural mice, yes. One can only hope that the cat is down there feasting on them. Soon we'll install a cat door such that she can come up to the kitchen and patrol at will!
Other signs that we live in the country:
— yesterday I saw my first coyote… in the yard. It started out near the play structure and strolled and trotted over to the garage, and then wandered over to the hammock (which needs to be brought in for the season), and then headed off towards yet more populated areas. Broad daylight too. Luckily I was on the phone with my mom at the moment, discussing rats, mice and other rodents, and so I was able to run through the coyote v. wolf v. dog identification issues, and also watch for signs of rabies or other concerns. But no, just a normal healthy coyote out for a walk! (My mother assures me that coyotes will not attack Lena dog, nor eat my children. Apparently they are extremely shy and will run off at top speed if approached in any way.)
— I recently got the local monthly bulletin, brimming with news of Bath, Ohio. It only comes out once a month, and is chock full of local doings. And there I found a full-page feature on an exciting event that took place… the pharmacy got a new sign! There was quite a nice photo of it… it's white with black lettering (surely a bold choice), and standing in a simply landscaped maybe six-foot-square plot that at this very moment features… pumpkins!! And cornstalks! I'm telling you, this is among the top news of the month!
— One of my greatest concerns of late: plowing. Who will plow this lengthy gravel driveway? I've called numerous plowing professionals and they all rebuff me. Seems they despise gravel… Snow flurries are taunting me even as we speak… will we have to get a dog sled?
Other topics:
Halloween went well. The boys were dressed as Batman and Robin. Elias as Robin… the tiny cape!!… was beyond adorable. Isaac took his role very seriously: we went to a Halloween party and there our kindly hostess, who did not know Isaac, asked his name. She said, "Hey, Batman, I'm going to have to call you Batman all night… what's your real name?" Isaac replied grimly, "Bruce Wayne." He also took to calling Elias, when not in costume, "Dick Grayson." As in, "I think 'Dick' needs his diapers changed…" and "Dick Grayson is crying because he wants to nurse!"
This time around we tried a different approach to candy management. Last year we did the painfully slow one-piece-after-each-meal approach, which made the candy last forever. It also made the constant fixation on candy last forever, at least through Christmas! And it built daily candy into Isaac's life, which was not a good thing, really, habit-forming, and just totally increased the VALUE of the candy. Oh, the negotiations, the bargaining, the fondling of the candy… arg! So this time, we tried a different approach: eat all you want. Have candy! It's Halloween!! This worked SO much better. Because Isaac immediately began to open candy, take one bite, and toss it in the trash. He began handing candy to others, sharing freely, and just all around enjoying it to the fullest… as its value plummeted. He did eat a ton of candy for about two days and then it was all over. Sweet freedom! He wasted and gave away much of it, and I think in the long run ate less, cared less, and enjoyed more. I know I loved not hassling over it all the time. Since Elias only has six teeth (or seven if you count the newest one), he didn't have any candy at all… but Isaac so generously suggested that we GRIND some candy up for the baby in our baby food grinder. How kind is that?
A final word about bears, as per Isaac:
"Bears look friendly, but they're NOT! They are MEAT-EATERS… and WE are made out of MEAT!"
Consider yourself warned.