... I am even more weary of the clean up. I was very (mistakenly) optimistic the problem was slowly resolving itself... when I walked into the kitchen today. There were only about four dozen of the little stinkers, most of whom I would like to believe were leftovers. Still curled up on the floor, due to my lack of enthusiasm for sweeping up the late, great swarm from Friday. So I got out my broom and dustpan, with the best intentions of sluicing the diminishing numbers in the usual fashion. But it seems like everytime I would go to the bathroom, and give 'em a 'burial at sea', so to speak, and get back to the kitchen with dustpan in hand, there would be several more than had, literally, come out of the woodwork.
I started with believing there were less than fifty, lying in various stages of death, but consistently in the same rigid pose: curled into a tightly wound concentric circle.But kept coming back to face a new infestation happily legging it across the tiles. When all was said and done (and that has not actually occurred just yet!) I'd have to estimate the grand total for today closer to 75.
This reminding me of the time I had a running count/score of mice I used slash marks, done in chalk, on the side of the little feed house in the back yard. I was keeping the big, (probably 100 pounds) burlap bag of sweet feed, along with bales of hay and sundry pieces of tack/saddle/blanket in the little window-less, door-less house to keep it all out of the weather. Which was easy pickings for both food and housing for little furry creatures. And certainly not rodent proof with no coverings on door way or window openings to prevent entry.
My dad gave me a mouse trap, with a quick lesson in: don't put your fingers here. I set and emptied my little wooden trap at least once a day for weeks. You've heard the expression of something 'reproducing like rabbits'? You can imagine how prolific mice can be... I think I was well up into the high teens or twenties before I got to the place I could empty the trap faster than they could get their children weaned and onto solid food. I think my brother was the one who was so amused by my score-keeping he took a photo of the slash-marks I was using for score keeping. It was serious business at the time - before I became completely befuddled by higher math and abstractions of algebra. In all liklihood I would have better luck today (my bank statement just came) if I was doing my 'figger'in' on the side of the barn with chalk instead of using pencil, paper, calculator.
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