Hyper-Imagination
Generally I hear from Tim via e-mail or Skype three or four times a week. Given that I am his mother, that's pretty good. Compared to the days when my grandparents went to China as missionaries in 1913 and communication was a good 3 months or so, this instantaneous communication has really spoiled missionary moms. Skype is a whole 'nuther experience -- I remember having to "talk" to Lao Lao (means "Old Old" or the mother's mother in Mandarin) and Granddaddy on those old reel to reel tape recorders to send to them when they were in Korea....Anyway, here I am able to hear from my son via e-mail on a daily or nearly daily basis, and talk to him via Skype once a week or so, depending on my travel schedule.So -- fast forward to the beginning of last week. I heard from Tim on Monday, but nothing Tuesday or Wednesday. On Wednesday I got an e-mail from Jen wondering if I had heard anything because, as a good "special friend" Tim e-mails her daily. Uh, no. Nothing.OK, Fast Forward to Worry.I didn't sleep Wednesday night. As is typical of my hyper-imagination, I had Tim abducted by terrorists (yes, there are some in his country), and thrown into prison -- and since no one knew how to get him out, he was languishing there with no help.Um....I won't go into the vivid pictures that ran rampant through my mental theatre.Moms and girlfriends worry. Dads don't."His internet is probably down." That was Bob's take."Yeah, he might be murdered and dismembered and all you can think of is that maybe the internet is down???"Later that morning there was a voice mail on my cell phone. "Hi Mama, it's Tim. Our internet is down. I'm going to a National Park for a couple of days, and will try and connect again on Saturday -- or go to an internet cafe if ours still isn't working.OK -- so Bob was right. Again.Doesn't matter. Next time there is something like this, my hyper-imagination will have developed something new and different for me to dwell on."Trust in the Lord with ALL your heart, and lean not unto your own IMAGINATION!!"Well, it SORTA says that. But my imagination is beyond compare. Too bad it doesn't go so far as to write best sellers such as JK Rowling's imagination carried her.Oh well. Most important -- Tim is fine. His internet is just down. That's all.
Critters on the Brain
The other morning, approximately 4:37 am, Bob got up to go downstairs with The Munch while he ate (he has to have company, regardless of the time -- long story). Anyway, I kinda woke up when he got out of bed -- and then thought, "Gee, I thought he took the cat downstairs. Why does it feel as though there are critters under the bed, moving it? Maybe Munch is still there?" At which point I fell back asleep and didn't give it another thought....until....I got an e-mail from Carole asking me if I had noticed the earthquake early in the morning.So THAT'S what it was. Not critters -- an earthquake!Bob didn't notice it at all....
Success!!
We accomplished in two days what the critter folk couldn't do in 3 months. I'm sure it was the trail of smokehouse almonds leading INTO the trap, and the lure of the peanut butter sandwich that did it.
Meet Simon:
Bob is calling the critter guys as we speak -- they can come and release Simon into the wild -- somewhere a LONG WAY AWAY FROM HERE -- and finish the job of capping the vents that they didn't do last week.
Squirrel Hunting...
My BIL, Rob AKA The Silver Fox, says that in the deep south they just use rifles....
Up heah in the Nawth, we have brooms. And "humane" traps. The traps are so humane that although we have had 5 of them here, we've never caught anything -- neither raccoons, squirrels, mice or -- whatever else we have living here.
The last trap was left on our roof several weeks ago, giving our neighbors great topics of conversation as to whether or not we had caught anything. No. Evidently squirrels don't like, or are too smart for the walnuts they put in there.
So, with Simon in the basement (just thought it was much easier to name him, and there is a certain resemblance to Simon Cowell -- not the least of which he wears the same fur every day -- rather like SC), Bob went on the roof to get the trap and see if we could accomplish what ABC Wildlife has not managed to do in the last -- oh, nearly three months.
First we had to figure out how it works. That wasn't easy. And I think the peanut butter sandwich that I left in the trap in bites is perfect for the mice. I left a sign pointing to the trap saying, "Simon -- really really good peanut butter sandwich, just for you...." but I think we are going to have to work on this a few more times before we get it right.
I think I need to slather something that is too big to get through the holes of the trap with peanut butter so that if Simon wants it, he'll actually have to get in the trap to get it.
I have some smokehouse almonds. I wonder if I should just put the can with a few almonds in the trap, add some peanut butter -- and see if it works....
Stay tuned.
Spoke Too Soon....
Heard some scuffling in the basement while we were eating breakfast. Munch was calmly sitting in the kitchen -- and that is our current family. Hmmm.....
Got downstairs, and there -- in full living color -- scampering across the basement floor was -- a squirrel.
I cornered him in the back basement wielding a broom (brooms are great for catching squirrels, doncha know?). He managed to elude me pretty well -- fast little buggers they are. Finally trapped him behind the big old grandfather (which was my GREAT grandfather's) desk. He wouldn't budge, and we couldn't budge the desk.
Have NO idea how he got in.
And have NO idea how to get him out.
Maybe Bob should try and pry up the squirrel trap that is still nailed to the roof and I could bait it with a lovely peanut butter sandwich????
Critter Story....The End?
Never did catch any critters. Various critter guys came and went and pontificated as to what sort of animals we had. All agreed that at one point there were raccoons -- goodness -- the raccoon droppings and, um, odor -- are hard to miss. Most likely squirrels as well. But as to who was able to scamper into the cage, withdraw the entire bait (tin foil and all), and then shut the cage door behind him/her -- that's anyone's guess.
I figured since Wheaton College is less than 6 blocks from here, that it was most likely a college educated animal. Lots of those around.
Anyway, last Saturday, critter folk came and got rid of all the old insulation in the attic, put odor eater and flea stuff down, blew in new insulation, fixed all the holes and put a cap on the attic fan.
At 8:30 on Sunday night, someone came out to put a cap on the vents. Now -- 8:30 of a Sunday evening in the pitch black dark? Bob and I were dubious, but they insisted it was no problem.
About half hour later he came down and said he'd be back in a few days -- he needed a rope to be able to rappel down our roof. Rather steep pitch to it.
It's Thursday. We've not seen them.
But the roofer has been here, and we are going to be the proud possessors of new gutters and whatever comes with new gutters. A couple of entrances that critters can get in will also be fixed.
We hope.
And that, my friends, should be the end of the critters.
Should be.
