I've Blinn Shamed

In March of 2015, I took my family on a "mystery trip" in the swagger wagon.  The family was super excited, because who doesn't want to go on a mystery trip, right?

What will we see?  
Will there be food?  
Where are we going?  
Where, Mumma, where?

This blog post is NOT actually about that particular trip, but let me be brief and detail what we did because I know you're all curious.  We drove to the famed Culbert's Bakery in Goderich for doughnuts and cream puffs, walked around the town square, and checked out some of 2011's tornado wreckage.

It was a bitterly cold day and the kids were cranky, so thank goodness there was food to soften the blow.  

Here are pictures of the town square pre and post tornado:

circa 1985

circa 2011

Quite shocking, isn't it?  The square had been cleaned up by the time we arrived on the scene in 2015, but evidence of the storm's destruction remained.  The kids gave this part of the trip a 6 out of 10 (doughnuts good, walking outside in freezing weather bad; toy store good, not buying anything in the toy store very bad).  

After Goderich, we traveled a short distance to Exeter for the second part of the trip - seeing a "mystery animal" in its natural habitat.  

What kind of animal, Mumma?  A bear?

What does it look like?  Does it have fur?  How many legs?

Is it bigger than the car?

Superexcitedly:  Is it a liger?

I am happy to report that I saw not one, but three mystery animals in Exeter's MacNaughton Park.  I was also thrilled to see that this little park had lovely landscape architecture - bonus!  

The mystery animals were a bit erratic, and one of them "kukked" at me, and I was briefly afraid that it might jump onto my head and attack me.  I didn't need to read How to Speak Squirrel in the Washington Post to know that the squirrel was pissed.  

According to the author, who does "not like to attach anthropomorphic descriptions to the behaviours of lower animals", the squirrel was likely "exhibiting alarm rather than anger", but pissed is pissed, I say. 

  

Treerat's cute, but cute can be dangerous...

It would be adorbs if it wasn't a squirrel

Kids rated this part of the excursion a solid 5 out of 10 (warm car good, treerat bad;  car ride back to London bad, wasted day bad).  

But as usual, I digress.

Today, I decided that Nath and I would go on another mystery trip, but this one would be by bike.  Nath wasn't impressed (I'm hungry.  Will there be food?  Where are we going?  I don't like surprises...)

Gah.  Who invented teenagers anyway?

He had one job to do to get ready for our trip - get the bikes out of the shed - but he failed, electing to play soccer with the 8-year-old and 5-year-old neighbour kids outside.  Grrrrrr.

After I unlocked the shed, dragged the bikes out, locked the shed back up, and yelled at Nath to "get on your bike now dammit!", away we went.  It's chilly out today, but the sun was peeping through the clouds every so often, and the fresh air smelled good.  

We rode east on Bruce and turned north on to Wortley, turned west on Victor and crossed Wharncliffe at Springbank.  Heading west, we merged on to the bikepath and pedalled to Greenside, where we turned south.  A few blocks west on Springbank and we arrived at our destination:  Woodland Cemetery.  Nath guessed where we going before we arrived, and I was only mildly annoyed :-)  We were having mother son fun!

I've written about this cemetery before in Deerly Departed - how funny am I? - as Nathaniel and I had had an adventure there in 2012, and peripherally, that is one of this blog's more popular posts with 428 hits.

But today.  We had no idea what horrors awaited us today.  

We were just there to see some deer.  There has not been a day when I set foot in the cemetery and have not seen at least ten deer.  "They're ever' damn where!", as my stepDad would say, and today was no exception: 

C'mere deer!  

Deer about to be fed by old dude

An old fellow stopped his vehicle and approached the deer with a bag of what I can only assume was breadcrust.  I briefly considered chastising him (for buck's sake dude, don't feed the deer) but I decided to keep my trap shut.  It was Sunday, he was happy, we were happy, the deer were happy - who I was to intrude and ruin this peaceful scene?  

Well, I am not going to lie, I couldn't help myself and I did say, using my best innocent tone within earshot of the man, "Nathaniel, are you supposed to feed the deer?  I don't think you are... " and "What do you think, Nath?  Should he feed the deer?  Deer don't eat white bread!" 

Nath wisely said nothing.  The man didn't even look at me; he just got into his car and drove off. 

I smiled smugly.  

Hey lady, take off eh?

Deer friends until death do them part 

Things soured right about here, but before I get into that, I will break for a surprise because it's in line with the mystery theme in this blog post.

I have a contest for you!  Yup, a contest.

First person to find the deer in the picture below wins a prize!  Comment below and I will tell you what you win.  :-)

I didn't say "geese".  I said "deer"

Okay, the contest part of this entry is over; we'll return to that anon.  

*****

Things were about to get juicy before the break and so I will resume my tale...

Nath decided to approach the deer on foot, which I did not encourage.  He was honked at and hissed at by two Canada geese and that was totally a sign for him to back off, buster.

I heard a car drive up behind me and suddenly I was being screamed at by a white hair sitting in the passenger's seat of a white SUV:  "You are disrespectful!  You are disrespecting this property!  It does NOT belong to you! Shame!"

I was baffled.  I had no idea what I had done, but whatever it was, it was BAAAAAAD!

She of the white hair, red scarf and dark sunglasses continued her tirade:

"You are IGNORANT!  I saw you stand on that headstone!  THAT IS DISGUSTING!"

I considered this as she continued her onslaught. Had I stood on a headstone?  Really?  Was this unconscionable behaviour on my part?

   

A - ha!  

I had stood on the bottom ledge (about a foot wide and a foot off the ground) of this headstone (Mr. Blinn) to take a picture because I couldn't see the deer properly:

Hiram Wetherby, you da man.  

I didn't even think about standing on the ledge, actually.  I am in the habit of moving to where I need to be to get a good photo, and as such, I didn't think that this was particularly out of the ordinary or offensive.  I wasn't defacing / humping / spray painting / lounging on / smashing / scuffing / trying to topple said headstone, and Hiram Blinn had expired in 1897.  

I did not want to say anything to the three elderly ladies in the car, so I let them carry on their verbal assault:  "You're DESPICABLE!  You're disgusting!  There's no hope for the younger generation!"  

And you three are bitches...

I said nothing.  Eventually they shut up, presumably exhausted from so much mental and physical exertion, and I said, "thanks and have a nice day".  I smiled and waved.  Please note that I was on the ground, and that I had only stood on the headstone for about ten seconds.  The car was rolling away as I waved gamely, but the driver abruptly changed her mind - did she not like my royal wave? -and slammed on the brakes.  Someone opened the door behind the driver, got out of the car noisily and violently approached me, stomping away in her Tender Tootsies, and getting right up in my face.  

Whitehairfloralscarf pointed her gnarled, ancient finger right at my honker and snarled, "YOU'RE DESPICABLE AND IGNORANT!  These headstones are private property and you have no right!  NO RIGHT!  Our husbands are buried here!"  

I tried not to laugh and retorted, "if this was my father's headstone, and he is DEAD! - I would have no problem with someone standing on his headstone to take a photo of some deer and neither would he!  MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!"

"It is my business!" (old ratchety finger shaking practically up my nose).  You are DESPICABLE!" [said for the third time].  At this point in the exchange, I had had ENOUGH.  I then saw that one of the old ladies was freaking filming me on her cell phone and I SNAPPED.

SNAPPED.

"OH! SO YOU'RE FILMING THIS?  I SUPPOSE YOU WANT ME TO GIVE YOU THE FINGER AND CALL YOU BITCHES NOW?  WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?  GRAB YOUR BASEBALL BATS AND BEAT ME UP?  POST IT ONLINE?"

I was totally livid and later Nathaniel told me that he was laughing so hard on the inside (not in the ladies' faces thank goodness), and he couldn't believe what was happening (neither could I!).  If those old, mangy bitches thought that I was going to let them insult me like that for something that I did in error and not to cause harm or infuriate anyone they were WRONG.  I chose to NOT respect my elders and treated them as my equals instead, meaning that they were about to be TOLD OFF BY THE WRONG LADY FOR THEM ON A SUNDAY.  

Whitehairfloralscarf shrieked at my sputtering face, and her asinine friends all moaned and made "I've been grievously wronged" sounds.  Then the biddy in the passenger's seat yelled, "I am going to call THE........."  

Okay lady.  Who ARE you going to call? The po-po?

She thought for a second.  "I am going to call the cemetery office!"

"Go ahead!" I screamed.  "GO!"

And they did, tearing off at 10km an hour.  

I was shaking, I was so pissed and upset.  Nathaniel laughed so hard.  He couldn't believe it.
I am so proud of him for saying nothing to the psychotic trio during the incident, but he did tell me that he didn't know what he would have done had they physically attacked me:  "Mum, I'm not sure that I could hit an old lady."  LOL.
I told him that had they attacked me that I would have kicked their sorry asses, and if I wasn't able to do so, he would have had to pull them off me.

Let me finish this disagreeable tale by apologizing to Hiram Wetherby Blinn's kin for my rudeness.  I sincerely hope that they forgive me.   It is not lost on me that "PEACE, PERFECT PEACE!" is carved in CAPS on his headstone, and that our nasty catfight took place directly in front of his final resting place.  Sorry, Hiram.  I really am.

*****

And now friends, I would like to know your take on this?  Was I in the wrong?  Should I have let the biddies insult me so rudely and apologized profusely for my thoughtlessness and ignorance?  This inquiring mind wants to know.

And don't forget to enter my contest :-)  Winner winner, squirrel dinner!

I will leave you with a picture of a wild turkey that Nathaniel spied on our ride home, which he tried to "take down" (his words):  "I'll destroy that turkey.  If I were starving I would catch it and eat it!"  Whatevs, Nath.

And because I always end my blog posts with a tune, I'll leave you with a very brief video about a blind deer.  It's not funny, but it's totally cute.

Previous post about Woodland:  Deerly Departed

Bear with Me

Do you know what this is?

image from http://db.tigsource.com/games/minecraft/screenshots/1478

It's a screenshot from a video game called Minecraft, or as I like to refer to it - Mindcrap.  

Many of you have heard of this game - if you have a kid, chances are he or she is an addict, or on the way to becoming one.  Sorry for those of you who are in denial, but it's true.  My son, who is 10, would rather play Mindcrap than do anything else.  Except maybe watch Mindcrap videos from THE BIGGEST MINDCRAP GEEK EVER, the Bajan Canadian:

This kid clearly spends WAY TOO MUCH time in his basement, eating Da-reets and drinking Sunny D like it's water.  

The amount of time that my kid spends (or would like to spend) on Mindcrap depresses me; however, I am hopeful that he will get over his addiction.  My brother and I played Atari incessantly as kids and I'm no longer jonesing for it.  Confession:  I once permitted N to play Mindcrap for 4 hours in a row.   Contender for bad mother of the year, obviously.  

N would rather play MC than watch TV, hang with friends, chase a soccer ball, go skiing, go to Disney (well maybe not that) et cetera.  I have caught him hunched and squirming at the computer chair, legs crossed tightly, because he has to go PEE so badly, yet still he slays on.  I told him that he should start wearing diapers like they do in the casinos, then he wouldn't even have to get up, making his life THAT MUCH easier.  I am nothing if not efficient.  

Thank god he likes to read.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.  Actually, I have myself to thank for that:  Brown Bear, Brown Bear

We were at the library recently getting some new books and this one caught my eye -  Let Them Be Eaten By Bears:  A Fearless Guide to Taking Our Kids into the Great Outdoors by Peter Brown Hoffmeister:

Yes, people, I am aware that mid-January is not a traditional time to think about going camping with kiddies; however, the book looked interesting and after it passed my "read the first page test" (I was hooked), I grabbed it.

I LOVE THIS BOOK.  It is full of life lessons, funny stories, kooky lore and ideas to get your family outside.  More on that in a few paragraphs.  And I will make the connection between Mindcrap and the great outdoors too.

But first, a story.  Nathaniel camped for the first time when he was 9 months old.

We had a pack and play (portable playpen) to throw him in during nap time or when he became annoying.  It was mid-June, the nights were cool and I was still nursing, so he slept under a goosedown duvet with me (we're glampers).  I have an awesome 4-6 man dome tent that I bought for around $150 and that's what we slept in.

Until I had a "better" idea.

I thought the pack and play and the double air mattress took up too much real estate in the tent.  It was cramped and stuffy.  I thought it made perfect sense to set up shop in my friend's "food tent":

you can see the playpen in the tent

My husband (voice of reason) said that we would be eaten by animals if we slept in that.  Well, he didn't actually say "eaten" but he did suggest that we would have nocturnal visitors.  I couldn't disagree more.  Never mind that our campsite in Elora was overrun by raccoons, who were an omnipresent threat during all hours of the day.

image from owned.com  - only funny because my kids are obsessed with Carly Rae Jepsen

"We are not going to get eaten by raccoons!  I tree planted for five years... yada yada yada..."

Because my husband is not a smart man, he listened to me.  We put the pack and play in the food tent, and also dragged the air mattress over, turning our "real" tent into a large, walk-in closet.  At bedtime, the three of us fell asleep, the husband on one side, Nathaniel in the middle and me on the other.  I recall being very happy with myself as I nodded off...  this is so lovely and fresh and roomy, and I am going to sleep like the dead... maybe N will even sleep through the night... zzzzzzzzzzzzz

Who was I kidding?  It was not to be.

I woke up in the middle of the night - it was PITCH black - and I was instantly aware that there was something wrong.

FUCKING WRONG because there was something crawling across my torso.  NOT KIDDING.  It must have crawled under the flimsy walls of the tent.  Because the tent has NO FLOOR, animals can crawl in and out willy-nilly.

Keeping in mind that there was a leaden beast crawling across my prone body, I did exactly what anyone would do - I whipped that duvet off my body like a woman possessed, exposing myself and my 9-month old to the elements, and screamed murderously.  Well not that murderously, because who wants to wake a sleeping baby?  Even if they are in danger of being eaten by a killer raccoon / rakunk!

My husband didn't wake up.  Neither did Nathaniel.

I had to poke my husband in the ribs to rouse him (a raccoon just crawled across me!, I hissed).  He was totally annoyed with me: I told you so. Now be quiet!

~~~

While reading Mr. Hoffmeister's book, I was reminded of this and my many other animal adventures.  I will save those for another post.  Today, I want to talk about kids and the great outdoors and what is keeping them from going there.  Hint: it's not bears.

Some quotes from Mr. Hoffmeister:

• "it is not uncommon for a child to play more than a thousand video game hours per year" 

• it took one of Mr. Hoffmeister's computer-addicted high school students a full twelve hours before he realized he was in the actual outside world, before he started to reference non computer material in his conversations.  While he looked across a valley at a snow-covered peak in Oregon, he said:  "oh yeah, I looked at this mountain online, and it looked way prettier on my computer." 

I find this to be alarming.    

I do not think that my children will end up like one of my former library colleagues, who had never camped, hiked or swum in a natural body of water (and had only gone in a pool once or twice!).   I am fortunate because I had a Dad who loved the great outdoors.  He took us skiing, skating, sledding and ice-fishing in the winter, and camping, hiking, and fishing in the warmer months.  I have slept under the stars in the Niagara Escarpment, and caught and cooked my lunch over an open fire.  I guess there isn't really a chance of my kids being outdoorsaphobes, even if Nathaniel is a vidhead and Gwen loves the telly.  

What I do worry about is the subtle and gradual transition to becoming an "indoors" person", described by Mr. Hoffmeister as such:

You like temperatures between 68 and 72 degrees F.  Much colder or warmer, and you might start to complain.  You like a dry environment but not an environment that's arid or dusty.  You are used to urban noise, comfortable with the sounds of computers, music, phones, cars, electronic bells, TVs, YouTube, alarms and large groups of people.  This may sound strange, but you might even like the toxic smells of bleach or other harsh cleaners or, near the street, exhaust, tar, oil, and burned gasoline.  These smells are, at the very least, familiar to you and therefore comfortable even if you don't like them.  

People, we need to wake up!  Our kids are getting fatter and the insidious, pervasive nature of video-gaming is the problem, especially with boys.  I urge you to kick your kids off the screens and into the outdoors.  They won't like it this time of year, as it's coldy-woldy.  Things like skating, skiing, and sledding help, as do snowmen and snow-forting.  If I told my son that he could whap me in the face with a snowball, that might be enough to get him off Mindcrap.  And that, my friends, is a step in the right direction.

I did not intend to write this entry as a review of Mr. Hoffmeister's well written and engaging book but it seems to be turning into that so I'll just go with it.  Bears is full of great information.  You will learn all you need to know to take your kids on a weekend or if you're up to it, a two-week camping adventure.  The how-to guide is full of anecdotes, humour, pop psychology and life lessons, all of which will teach you something about embracing the great outdoors.

I hear a lot of parents talking about how when I was a kid, I spent all day outside.  I walked or rode my bike everywhere.  Parents - it can still be like that!  Times are NOT that different.  Kids are still kids and like to do kid stuff like riding around on their bikes, terrorizing the neighbours and playing nicky-nicky-nine-door.  By letting them explore, your kids will build character and learn to trust their instincts.  This cannot be taught by reading or by playing video games.

I am not a perfect Mum; I'm far from it.  I do not always have the energy to go outside and chase the kids and dog around but I'd like to leave you with some great ideas (and some self-indulgent family photos).  They're good reminders for me too.

1)  Camp in your backyard if you haven't camped before or you're out of practice.  Sleep outdoors on your deck on a warm night.  We did this at my Mom's house when Gwen was one.  I should probably not tell you that in the morning, I went inside for a cup of joe and left Gwen and her father "sleeping" in the tent outside.  I looked out the kitchen window and saw Gwenny toddling alone toward the house (husband was still asleep and didn't even hear Gwen exit).  My parents' backyard is ginormous, unfenced, bordered by farmer's fields, and a highway in front.  It could have gone horribly wrong.  It did not.
Kids love to camp in the backyard and if someone has a freakout, you can always return to the creature comforts of your home.  Here's my son "camping" on the deck outside my bedroom in mid-November of last year (his idea; I did not join him).

2)  If you want your family to spend more time outdoors, consider getting a dog.  The dog needs to be walked at least twice a day.  You will experience more sunrises and sunsets, and family time.

3)  Let your kids climb trees, help with gardening and get filthy.

Some of you reading this may have never had children, or you may be grandparents.  You may wonder how a book about taking your kids outdoors can impact you.  It can.  I would argue that you too can benefit from getting "eaten by bears".  Of particular interest is Work Less, Make Less Money, Play More; Different is Good and There is Never a Better Time.

Now get out there!


Musical pairing:  FURR by Blitzen Trapper (such a foot-tapping, thumping song! I love it!)

Deerly Departed

Nathaniel and I were driving home from gymnastics recently and as we passed by Woodland Cemetery, we were astonished to see two deer sitting on their haunches next to the crematorium.  Can you see the deer in this picture?

Or this one:  ?

No you can't.  Because there aren't any.
Sorry for that little trick; I couldn't resist.  The next picture will be of a deer, I promise.

See?

Nathaniel was adamant that the deer were plastic statues (the same ilk as the dreaded pink flamingo).  Woodland is one of London's oldest (1879) cemeteries.   There is NO WAY that they permit people to "decorate" with plastic lawn ornaments! So I did what any mother worth her salt would do:  I slammed on my brakes, pulled a "u-eeeee" and drove back to the gates to check.

As we drove inside, Nathaniel complained:  "I don't wanna go in. I'll think of death".

The kid has a death phobia.

I said, "death is part of life.  Look how beautiful it is in here!"

I also gave him the "when I was your age..." line and told him about the countless enjoyable days that I spent roaming the Woodlawn Cemetery in Welland with my paternal Grandmother, who views the cemetery as kin of the park - both are perfectly acceptable places to bring small children.  I told Nathaniel about the pet and children's cemetery and how I liked to pore over the gravestones, reading the inscriptions and scrutinizing the porcelain photos of the dearly departed.

Silence from the back seat.

We crawled along the road toward the crematorium and sure enough, those statues were bona fide deer.  They were sitting with their legs tucked beneath them in the grass and were chewing their cud contentedly.  I was sure that they would sprint away, but they actually ignored us.  Aren't deer supposed to be skittish?  Was it beneath them to even glance in our direction?

I was amazed and awestruck as I always am in the presence of the sublime, but unbeknownst to me, the best was yet to come.

We bid adieu to the deer and prepared to leave.  You have to take a rather long and circuitous route to exit the huge cemetery and as we drove down the shady lane, I admired the many ancient headstones, statuary and grave markers - the beauty of which was lost on the 8-year-old.  I stopped the van in front of the venerable Pixley Mausoleum, which is monolithic and glorious.  Its massive door is flanked by lions, also real (heh heh), and so I HAD to stop and take a closer look:

picture by David Caloren, a librarian friend of mine (https://www.flickr.com/photos/dcaloren/5101784071)

Nathaniel refused to budge from the van:  "I'm cweeped out, Mum".  And so, I put the van in park and walked to the mausoleum ALONE (cue horror music).  I was admiring the front door, which was sadly but not surprisingly locked, when I heard Nathaniel yell:  "LOOK!"

He startled me, as I thought he was still inside the van, and so I jumped.   As I turned to see what had excited him, he was pointing directly at me. Realizing that the object of his attention was behind me, I whipped my head around and saw a buck standing less than TWENTY FEET from me!  I instinctively began backing away slowly because I didn't want it to charge me.  Don't laugh! I have been in a passenger in the front seat of a van that was twice charged by the same huge moose and it is no laughing matter. (I'll save that story for another time).

Back to the buck.  The deer did something unspeakable. It turned its back on me, so that I had an upfront and personal view of its anus, and both pissed and shat. I kid you not.  Nathaniel and I, being mature individuals, laughed like maniacs.

After finishing its business, it limped away.  It was obviously injured and we were sad for it.  Poor thing.

As we continued our drive through the cemetery, we next came upon eight deer sitting in a semicircle chewing their cud.  It was a deer party: a true stag and doe!  Again, the deer just sat there, munching away.  I think that one or two got up and deigned to look at us, but they didn't approach and neither did we.  It was a very special moment for Nathaniel and I to share.

At this point, we decided that we had to "hightail it" home to get a camera!  As we approached the Veterans' Area, we had to stop the van because there were two deer crossing the road directly in front of our van.  There were also many deer to the right and left and as I looked in my rear view mirror, I saw one standing in the road behind me.  We were surrounded!  We counted 22 deer.  Unbelievable!  I felt like we were in African Lion Safari, except it was London Deer Safari.

Should you wish to go visit the deer yourselves, I can tell you that it is miraculous to behold these beautiful creatures.  I have been three times this month between the hours of 7:30 and 8:15 in the evening and I have seen them every time.  Woodland is on Springbank Drive.

******************************************

This buck is "in velvet", so named because of the fuzzy antlers which begin to grow in May.  Bucks shed their antlers December through March.

You can see the nubbins of new antlers on this buck too:

I liked the robin sitting atop this headstone, "gazing" into the trees.  

Now go visit!  You'll love it.

Les Souris - Eeek!

I couldn't remember the French word for mouse and had to ask my son, who goes to FI.  I love that my son's French vocabulary is now more extensive than my own.  Well, I love it and I hate it.  No one likes a smartass kid!

Here is a picture of my office (with said smartass in the foreground).  Please do not ask me what is in his mouth because I do not know or care.

I know, this is not a very exciting picture; however, if you look to the top right, above the door, you will see a hole.  Here's a close-up:

That hole was made by a RODENT!  On Friday night, the kids and I were watching Freaky Friday (2003.  Jamie Lee Curtis, Mark Harmon and sober Lindsay Lohan; I give it 3.75 stars; it's cute and funny).  I packed the kiddies off to bed, went into the office and SHRIEKED! RB and Nathaniel bolted into the room and I pointed at the hole.

See?  There really was an animal scratching in my walls, and I was NOT exaggerating about the horrendous scratching in my previous post.

While we were examining the hole, the rodent actually had the gall to stick its nose out of the hole and begin scratching again in earnest.  It was awful.  We saw its schnoz and fur and such at the hole and I was FREAKING out! I may as well have been in the fetal position.  I deplore rodents.  I have no problems with snakes, spiders, bees or other insects but I cannot abide rodents (not a fan of the lowly maggot or silverfish either).  There is a scene in the disturbing novel The Painted Bird (Jerzy Kozinsky) and it involves a farmer being eaten alive by a pit of writhing rodents. To this day, I cannot get that image out of my head.  Read The Painted Bird only if you are a masochist and are interested in the violence, and sexual and social deviance that characterizes wartime.  I should not have listened to the individual who recommended this book to me when I was a tree-planter.

Back to the rodent.  On Thursday, when I first heard the terrible clawing, and before I knew that I would have a freaking hole in my ceiling the following evening, I was smacking at the wall with a book (Bicycle Repair Manual for those who are curious), which I thought might scare the creature away. Maybe I should have pounded harder.

I went to my local hardware store and bought some mousetraps from the incompetent but friendly  employee.  He seemed to know a fair bit about mouse-catching and we debated the merits of poison over traps and decided to go with traps.  Because I am a jokester and the employee seemed like a fellow with a sense of humour, I started to call him Mousekiller.  Exempli gratia:  "Hey, Mousekiller, what do you think about rat poison?" He seemed to like the moniker.

In the mousetrap aisle, I asked MK to demonstrate how to set the trap, because I'd never set one before, but MK was clueless. I mean, completely clueless.   Eventually, I figured it out on my own, while he was fiddling with the thing, and MK congratulated me and told me to go on Youtube for backup.  He seemed embarrassed by his ineptitude but I thought it was funny.  I told him that he was not living up to his reputation and that I would have to stop calling him MK.  He thanked me for coming in and told me that I made his day.  Awww....

Anyhow, RB set the traps with gobs of peanut butter and we caught four mice on Friday night.  We haven't caught anything since then (today is Monday) and I am hoping that the evil rodent that ate our wall is one of the deceased.

Here is what greeted me in my office on Saturday morning:

Drywall dust and bits of fur / lint / insulation all over my Henry Napartuk!

And this mess:

The hole also became quite a bit larger. It doesn't look so bad in this picture, but trust me, it's ugly and disconcerting!

I am hoping that the creature that did this either:
a) escaped and had its tiny brains pulverized in the trap or
b) died in the wall.

If it's the latter, it means that there will be a god-awful smell in the office sometime soon.  Something to look forward to.

I meant to write about the pinworms (which we do NOT have) in this post and also a mini-review of another graphic novel, and lastly how I received a senior discount on a receipt (horror!!!!!!) on the weekend, but that will have to wait.

Cheers.