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Sunday, November 4, 2012

Storybook Fakes, or a Mouse in the House

See, that mouse is wearing clothing.
Hello from hoboland. I know we’re not really hobos—other people have lost their homes and possessions, even their family members, and I feel sorry for them. But I feel like a hobo. And a hobo with a beauty problem--the two vertical creases on my forehead have gotten deeper this week, from worries and stress.

Just left H. by the cozy fire so I could come and plug in for power and get internet. But reliable Starbucks has no internet. The barista said it crashed b/c so many people were using it. Woosh, it just came back!

In other indignities, I was just cleaning the kitchen counter by candlelight and my hand came upon a small, spongy, dark thing and yes, it was a mouse. I quickly scooped it into the garbage bag and took the bag out. Pretty gross. I keep threatening to get stronger mouse traps when H. takes a business trip. He and Fig like those tiny gray Havahart .traps that keep the mice alive; then they go release them over by Mills Reservation. Then the mice run back into our basement and sneak up to our kitchen every night to steel Sug's kibbles if we leave them out. Guess I will keep my mouse murder via garbage bag to myself @ home.

I’ve been thinking about storybook images during this week of simpler living:
  • As a kid, when I drew a house, it always had a chimney and the chimney always had a fat puff of smoke. Ha. I never realized the work that goes into gathering the wood and setting the fire to make the smoke puff out of the chimeny. I tried to stoke a fire in our fireplace for warmth, and keep it going. I added everything but the kitchen sink--lit matches, lit candles, cereal boxes, newspaper sections. It's been over 25 years since my first trip to Maine with H., when we went camping in Acadia and he built the first of many fires he has made for me and Figgy. It took till now for me to really appreciate this skill. I told him he is my hero for that.
  • Santa. I also wondered today how that big fat guy could possibly fit down a sooty, filthy chimney and emerge with his red plush suit so cheery, his beard so snowy white. Because when I had to check that the flue was open today, I got my pink Lilly Pulitzer sweater dirty. I was too cold to take it off and was determined to wear something cheery today.
  • The mouse. They are so cute in storybooks--they live in matchboxes and wear hats and clothes. Or they do something with spools of thread. Well, they ain't cute to me. They are a major pain in my tush. But they are much tinier than you think they'll be. "They have families, and feelings," H. is fond of saying. "They're just like us."
Well, I should get going. I want to actually wash my face and brush my teeth and get a good night's rest before boot camp. We might have power back soon. Good night.

  1. Breakfast with my friend Anne.
  2. Nap by fire--after H. got back from Starbucks and built a good one.
  3. Nice dinner by candlelight with our friends and Fig and 3 of her friends. H. made pasta, meatballs and sauce on stovetop. I guess Stuart Little came sleuthing later, looking for morsels. And I caught him in his tracks.


  1. No matter how cute, any mouse that shows up on my counter is soon going to be a dead mouse, if I can manage it.

    Hope electricity comes your way soon.

  2. Nan, you crack me up. very well put!!!! alice