Well, didn't I have to go and perform more minor surgery on my arm this weekend.
The splinter I got a week ago was still greenish and festering in my arm, and I figured it had gone on just a bit too long. Finally, I cleaned it all out, sterilized a pin, and pulled out the cause of the problem. And didn't I have a 2 x 4 in my arm. OK maybe that's an exaggeration, but it was definitely kindling-worthy chunk of wood. Now that it's gone, I'm healing nicely.
On Saturday we had one of those idyllic summer days at the beach with friends. We got there on the late side of the proposed meeting time, and were the first ones there. A half hour later, up paddles another friend, one that we in error hadn't thought to invite, with his two kids. Then the others started to trickle in, and the entire day was spent as follows: heat up on the sand, then cool down in the water (repeat as needed). We ate, we drank, we floated, we tanned, and at the end of it all, as the sun went down, we all retired back to our place and ordered delicious local gourmet-type pizza and watched for meteors (we saw a spectacular one). By 11:30 everyone was gone home and the house was cleaner than it had been that morning. A perfect day.
Yesterday was hot. We did small around-the-house things. Then last night we had mouse adventures: I heard one chewing at the wall in the kitchen, behind an electrical outlet. We have mice in that spot constantly, and only in that spot, and they all seem to have the same goal in mind: chew through the drywall and get onto the counter. Did they all read the same memo? How many mice are in the house anyway? I don't have a problem with it because I've got to re-tile the kitchen anyway, and then the problem will be solved, but it's a bit irritating and gross if they eventually make it out onto the counter. I called hubby, because he is the mouse whisperer, and enjoys catching them by the tail and putting them outside alive. One night last summer he caught two after I went to bed, and dashed upstairs for show and tell. I had no idea what he was doing, so when he showed up in the bedroom with a wriggling paper bag and said "WANNA SEE WHAT I'VE GOT????" I wasn't really prepared for the two-mouse midnight experience.
This particular one, however, must have snuck some grounds out of the coffee maker, because not only was he chewing so voraciously that I heard it in the living room, but he made a speedy break for it, running under the fridge, the microwave cart, the counters, and eluded hubby. All of a sudden the cat had a mouse in the living room. We got it away from her, but it took off to the back of the house. Behind the computer it went. Then into the bathroom. Then up into the bathroom vanity. Then into the inner bathroom. Then out and into the t.v. room. I got wise and stood in the door of the t.v. room shaking a blanket so it wouldn't get out, and hubby chased it around and around the room, like, six times. It was seriously adorable, like a little wind-up toy, and hubby broke a sweat. It had the upper hand for sure. Finally it got onto the window frame, where it was trapped, and hubby picked it up by the tail, all wriggly and cute, and put it outside near the shed.
But this morning when we got up, there was a dead mouse on the living room floor. The same one? Were there two? I think there was a kitchen mouse and a living room mouse, and the kitchen mouse bit the biscuit. Neither of the cats claimed responsibility, but they both looked pretty self-satisfied this morning.
In other news, on Friday night I finally went to investigate the tree from which we heard intense screaming nearly a week before. I had been looking for the cat late at night, and apparently set this creature off, scaring it pretty bad. I located the sound just across the street from us and up a tree. When hubby went crashing through the forest with his flashlight to investigate and see if any of our cats were in trouble (Sasha was still out) it got hysterical and screamed and screamed. When we all went back onto our deck, it continued to whimper for about an hour (Sasha had, in the meantime, wandered innocently onto the deck and been put inside). Shining the flashlight upwards produced no glowing eyes, and it had pretty strong vocal cords, so when my cousin went "it almost sounds like a scared baby bear, calling for its mother", I hollered at my dear husband to exit the woods, stat. It did indeed sound like a scared baby animal crying, with good solid vocal cords, from up a tree. While on the deck we listened for momma's rescue, and we did hear crunching gravel on the road between us and the tree. Anyway, Friday evening in the daylight I went to check it out, and sure enough, among the stand of hardwood from whence the crying came, there was one tree with little climbing claw marks all up it, about one week old. Sharp claw marks. With an apple tree at its base. When we looked in the nature book we learned that bears are born in January/February, but perhaps this one was still small enough to be up a tree of about 8-9 inches in diametre. Anyway, it was sobering. So now I have new worries: momma bears in my yard, and eastern cougars in the 'hood. Do big cats eat little cats? I'm sure a bear would freak a little cat out. Add that to my list of menacing wildlife in my immediate vicinity (wolves, coyotes, fishers, bears, cougars, oh my).
Sometimes living in the country puts you face to face with just a bit too much life. At least it's never dull.
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