Some of my friends in the blogsophere know I go back at least five years as a blogger. At one time, I hosted as many as five blogs concurrently. Why? You guessed it. I really love to blog. So to be paid to blog would be a dream come true.
Mice Capades
Walt Disney made them huggable. John Steinbeck made them heroic. In reality, mice are creatures of terror who carry parasites, gnaw through wiring, and make you feel like a crummy housekeeper.
Whenever I hear a house mouse scurrying across my spotless kitchen floor, I race to the cupboard, wrangle into latex gloves, and wait until said mouse ventures out from underneath the range. Then I pounce, grabbing it by its rubbery tail and flinging it off the deck of my two-story home, yelling, “Sayonara, sucker!” From my fingertips to a crash landing in the back forty. A landing from which no mus musculus ever returns.
Buy a cat, you say? I have a feline named Frodo. Like Scylla, the mythological she-devil, she’d tear out your liver just to amuse herself. And that’s what mice are to Frodo—amusement. She bats them between her paws like she’s having a game of pinball on the floor-you-could-eat-off-of. Once she actually managed to kill a mouse— when the rotten thing died of cardiac arrest before it was “Game Over.”
Heaven knows why I pay a pest control service $200 a year. Maybe I’d have better luck if the exterminator wasn’t named Mickey.
Author Bio
I am mechanically challenged wife, mother of one, and full-time marketing director, fueled by endorphins from my Curves workouts. I aspire to domestic goddesshood but am forever falling short because of my concave cheese soufflés. My husband Bill, aka Dangerman, who may have consumed one too many failed soufflés, is constantly admonishing me to be careful and not to do anything stupid like fall off the recovery boards during my sessions as Curves. In the past, I have been known to fall off a sidewalk and hurt myself.
I have a college-age daughter, who lives in Vermont, who is brilliant and well-educated, both of which have nothing to do with economic self-sufficiency. In the pet department, I have an indoor cat Frodo, a herd of outdoor cats who parade by my basement window regularly whom I have cleverly dubbed, "The Cat Parade," and many unexterminated pests--mice, spiders, stink bugs, box elder bugs--who call 37 Briar Crest Manor home.
My eighty-three-year-old mother is one of my best friends. I take her to church on Sundays because I’m worried she’s going to kill herself one day, fighting over the best spot on the communion rail.
typical PA Dutch hex sign
I live in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, where the prevailing wisdom embraced by my people is the adage, “What’s the use of being Pennsylvania Dutch if you can’t be dumb?”Thanks for stopping by. Wish me luck.
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