jmgoyder

wings and things

Cat and mouse

Okay so we don’t have any cats (the dogs would eat them) and, at the moment we don’t have any mice (thank goodness), however now that Ming is 21 he seems to think he is the cat and I am the mouse. If cats are controlling and mice are meek, then perhaps he is right.

So, while ‘the cat’ was away for a few days, Dina and I decluttered and sorted my old office (including the four-drawer filing cabinet!) the bathroom, my bedroom (which was already okayish) and went through ALL of my paperwork which is now properly filed in the filing cabinet in actual files! I am a very happy mouse.

The only drawback was that I was under strict instructions from Ming to not go to the dump with the rubbish until he had checked I wasn’t throwing anything out that he might want. This happened two weeks ago and the ute was so full it took him ages but he only found two unopened toothbrushes so I was just given a little claw pat and off I went to the dump. Now we have a second ute-load of rubbish which I plan to add to today while Ming is at work.

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On his return yesterday he went through this second lot of rubbish while I was in town and when I returned in the early evening his expression was grim. My little mouse voice quavered:

Me: What have I done now?

Ming: I’m a bit hurt, Mum, but it’s okay.

Me: Did you find something on the ute that you wanted? Oh no!

Ming: You are being too ruthless. I think from now on I really need to be here to make sure you don’t do the same thing again.

Me: Just let me get out of the car and come inside.

Ming: Yes, we should talk about this.

…….

Me (seated with a fortifying glass of wine): What did you find?

Ming: Like I said, I’m okay about it now, Mum, but it’s taken me a couple of hours to get over it.

Me: Just tell me….

Ming: You threw away my Mother’s Day card to you from last year.

Me: OMG Ming I’m so sorry! I was really careful to put all of the sentimental stuff into the sentimental box. I don’t know how I missed that. Did you retrieve it?

Ming: No point, Mum, you’d ripped it in half.

Me: What? No way. I must have thought it was something else!

Ming: Just don’t let it happen again. Please put everything you are uncertain about into a corner where I can go through it myself. I don’t trust you.

Me: Okay, darling. Sorry. Do you want a hug?

Ming: Maybe a bit later.

Cats can be cruel but mice can be mischevious so, while he is at work today I will very quickly chuck the crate of his primary school drawings onto the back of the ute. After all, even though he was a prolific artist at 5, he wasn’t Picasso.

On second thoughts maybe I should wait for him to come home and check first! In the meantime I will put all of the stuff he wants to check into the corner for Captain Cat to sort out himself.

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This mouse is feeling the mirth!

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Fear of folding

I have been doing a rather frightening job today – folding the mountain of washed clothes that has accumulated in our spare room. I only got halfway before getting a fright that I was frightened of getting – movement amongst the pile.

Let me explain. We don’t just have feral fox and randy rabbit problems here; we also have spinny spiders, massive moths, carefree cockroaches, sneaky snakes and mischievous mice. Now, before you unsubscribe or delete in horror, I can assure you that we do not live in a feraldom. We do, however, live in a farmhouse that is over 100 years old and, despite Husband’s various renovations over the years – black and white tiles and a fantastic red Aga in the kitchen, a beautiful, antique-filled dining room etc., this is still an old farmhouse and old farmhouses tend to have holes.

Heat waves, like the one we’ve experienced over the last week, tend to draw these creatures through these holes and into the house to privilege us with their company. For me, personally, cockroaches are the worst and I have baits everywhere and I’ve seen and killed two in the last two days and they are those big ones that come from the bush – argh. I know it’s ridiculous, but they terrify me! I’d rather a mouse but perhaps I shouldn’t say that….

So, back to that pile of folding. Okay, last night, as Son was looking for a fresh pair of underwear in the mountain, he saw some movement inside an unfolded sheet – you know, one of those fitted sheets with elastic on the corners. Well, it wasn’t a fox or a rabbit or a spider or a cockroach or a snake – it was a mouse. Heroically, Son, wearing his post-op. splint/corset, tried to eradicate the mouse by lassooing the sheet but, lacking the required energy, gave up. He didn’t tell me this until later – not heroic!

That’s why I felt like the hero this morning, folding all of that washing knowing that within that sheet at the corner of the pile, in the corner of my eye, there was a mouse. I managed to do the whole job except for that sheet.

Oh no! Now there’s something really loud running around in the ceiling. It sounds like a sprinting competition; it sounds like something really huge.

Son is asleep again so I am going to escape to the outside.

I will not fold!

ps. I have not included pictures because that would be too weird.

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A mouse in the house

At this time of year, we often have an invasion of mice. These mice seem to find my little office (the size of a large cupboard) particularly attractive due to all the paper, books, newspapers, discarded novel drafts, magazines I was going to write for, Christmas wrapping paper I couldn’t be bothered using, discarded novel drafts, Son’s old school reports which are best forgotten, newsletters from local wineries we never get to go to, information pamphlets about aged care, x-rays of Son’s scoliosis, discarded novel drafts, Son’s old school reports that I should have framed, photographs of me when I was young and beautiful, discarded novel drafts, lecture notes from my university days, Son’s childhood drawings when we thought he was going to be the next Picasso, or maybe Dali, unopened mail, bills that need to be paid, discarded novel drafts, sentimental jottings and so on………….

If you were a mouse, you would understand that my little office is HEAVEN!

For me, however, sharing this small space with mice is HELL.

Now, for all of you pet mouse owners,  I apologise for what comes next….

Mousetraps! Yes, I have discovered a newish invention; it’s plastic and all you do is put some peanut butter on the middle bit and, ideally, the mouse will get whammo-ed (it’s very humane and quick), then all you do is (without having to touch the mouse corpse) empty it into the bin, then re-set the trap for the rest of the mouse family.

The problem, however, is that my mice companions (a couple just scurried past me) are too clever for the traps; they simply eat the peanut butter from the sides of the trap and avoid death. Here is a picture of a trap that has been foiled. As you can see, the peanut butter is gone. It’s almost as if they think I am feeding them!

My feet are permanently up off the floor, sometimes around my neck in an acrobatic move I have developed, in order to avoid being trampled on by the growing army of mice. I am no longer horror-stricken, just brave. I will win this war!

It’s lovely having what my friends are calling a ‘zoo’ outside but inside? No thanks!

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