The good news is, it’s not house mice, that get in and eat the food in your pantry.
Field mice get in for warmth, I guess, then go out into the field, and eat stuff outside.
So the guy set some what-do-you-call-its. Not traps. Bait? Food that’ll poison them, but not our cats.
So it might not even have anything to do with the cleanliness of the house. It might just be that there’s easy access somewhere. Which, honestly, is kind of a relief to me, because I was feeling like an unclean person.
It’s an old house. 1890. It’s pretty upstairs because it’s been renovated, but obviously some things were overlooked.
We figured we’d take care of anything that needed work. I think we were being very very optimistic because of how much we liked the house. Unsurprisingly, what money we had for home improvements dried up. Fast.
Anyway, now we wait.
I’ve been up since 2:00. I did dream tonight. About my mom and Aislyn. I was talking to my mother, who apparently was alive, looking for advice with Aislyn, who was was cutting her own hair and doing other things that might be considered naughty. At one point, I said, “Mom,” and that was when Derek woke me up.
It wasn’t a nightmare, though.
Now I’m just here in my chair with my arm propped up on two big pillows, Shane asleep in my lap, light box on, Wild Cherry to my right, Blackhole Sun streaming on Spotify. Talking to you guys.
The four ibuprofen seem to be doing the trick.
I tell you, this is the life.
The only thing that would make this better is if it was May and I was sitting in front of the ocean. Wouldn’t even have to be daytime.
Believe it or not, it doesn’t take much to make me happy. A keyboard or notebook’ll do it.
It’s already time to go. Have a great Thursday, my friends, a safe commute, and thanks, as always, for reading. ☺️♥️