Revenge of the ICK
Taking a step back into a previous week's happenings, you may recall that mice chewed up our very large plastic inflatable pool and a plastic Jump-o-lene my parents-in-law had bought the kids for Christmas that they hadn't even had a chance to use.
When we arrived at the cabin this past weekend, I noticed my husband had a strange stash of things in a brown paper bag that he seemed to have an odd relish for and attachment to. It was a bag of mouse traps.
It was on. Man against mouse. Obviously, the prior attacks had been an egregious affront to my husband and his realm. The mice must die.
Aside from hubby's mouse preoccupation over the weekend, we tried to get some things done. The deck is almost painted, although it could stand another coat or two, especially in some areas where you can see the not-so-skillful brush strokes. The deck flooring still needs to be lightly sanded and stained. Got some raking done and hubby borrowed his dad's riding lawn mower and tried to push the woods back where they belong. Long hours were spent with the weed whacker.
Personally, I raked lots of leaves. Yes, it is late July, but I'm just now feeling well enough to tackle these types of projects. The weather was cool and overcast, so we didn't want to risk getting any paint out only to have to close everything up and run in, so I raked the leaves that had gathered around our shed and rock pile.
The reason I mention all this is coming.
My son wasn't feeling well on Saturday, so hubby and I decided to go to the anticipatory Mass while my PIL watched the kids. I finally figured out who the priest reminds me of...Pa Kettle. It's taken a few years to put this connection together, but Pa Kettle it is.
I only mention this because it was one of those "Ah ha" moments. Unfortunately, every time I see this priest, this thought will be in my head.
On the way back from Mass, we spotted another bear. This one was quite a ways north of our cabin and just lumbered out of the woods and across the road. All I can say is, glad we were in the car because they may be cute, but bears are scary.
After we got home from Mass, it was pretty late, but I was back at the raking. I got all the leaves around the shed cleaned up and used the weed whacker to trim all around the shed and the rock pile.
The next morning, as we were getting a few things done before loading the car for the ride back home, hubby loaded up my pile of leaves onto a tarp to dump in our woods while I was doing the domestic things inside like washing the dishes and closing blinds.
My son was feeling a bit better and had been outside with his dad and sister. While I was just finishing up the dishes, my son came in and said, "Mom, do you know what?" Of course, this is what he always says, and my standard response is, "No. What?" He went on to tell me, in great detail, about the rattle snake he saw in the woods. I patiently listened to his story before I told him that it was undoubtedly a garter snake, since we have seen many of those around, but rattle snakes don't tend to come this far north because it's too cold. Like usual, his childhood imagination had been working on over-drive.
After telling me all about the snake, back outside he went.
A few moments later, my husband came in and said I needed to come outside and see the rattle snake. What????
Here, laying in our wood pile, right next to the shed and rock pile I had been working on (in shorts and bare feet), was a good sized rattle snake!! Hubby had already let the kids hear it rattle and asked me if I wanted to hear it too. But, before I could really answer, he took the stick that was already in his hand and got close to the snake with it.
"Did you hear it?" No. All I heard was the ringing in my head, so that was a disappointment. The kids however, thought it was cool. I was kind of missing the bear at this point.
Meanwhile, back in the garage with the strategically placed mouse traps. Hubby managed to exact some revenge and had caught two mice, which he then took over to the wood pile and tossed to the snake.
Hubby and the snake seemed to develop some weird cosmic connection based on shared goals; hubby doesn't want the mice around and the snake needs to eat. I think they made some diabolic pact that I don't even want to know about.
As they say, ignorance is bliss.
Or more recently, what happens at the cabin, stays at the cabin.
25 March – Feast of the Good Thief: St. Dismas
5 hours ago