Since moving into my house, I’ve felt a bit like a Disney princess, but not in a good way.
I have just about lost count of all the critter incidents I’ve had, and only a few were pleasant. The first, and main one, you know about if you’ve read my previous columns. I have a few cats that have taken a shining to me and always hang around. Nothing worrisome, and pretty cute, too.
But one morning, I woke up to a bee on the floor in my hallway. It was on its back, and sluggish, like it was waking up like I was. Not exactly what you want to deal with before coffee.
Don’t hate me for this, but the bee did not make it out alive. I’m all for saving the bees and whatnot, but not when they spook me on the way to my morning bathroom trip. (Admit it: you wouldn’t want to put up with much at that time of day, either.)
The wasp that showed up on my blinds recently also met a similar fate, as I firmly believe they come straight from the Devil.
I’ve had two separate instances of crickets in the house. Not too concerning, but since they were a bug and they were in my house, I was less than pleased.
They did make it outside alive, though.
But, the most annoying of the instances is the mice.
I understand why I get them, with the house being old, the woods behind me and the field just down the road. But I still can’t stand the thought.
The first time I saw one, I was sitting in my chair and watching a show before bed. I noticed something out of the corner of my eye, and that little thing just scurried along the wall and into the kitchen.
He was followed by a second a few minutes later. Not a discovery you want to make at almost midnight. It was safe to say the cats weren’t doing their job as well as they should, but I got some things to help the problem.
I caught one, and didn’t see anything for awhile. That is, until I came home one day to some of my yarn drug along the baseboards and up into a hole in the cabinets.
It was my good yarn, too. Cotton. That stuff ain’t cheap. If it wasn’t war before that, it sure is now.