Sunday, February 3, 2013

Miiice.

My house has mice. After a sleepless week of squeaking and scurrying, nibbling holes and and stealing peanuts, and most importantly twilight plundering, something had to be done. I threw one deceivingly cute mouse over my fence at 3am-- only to realize he'd be back in no time. I did what any desperate volunteer would do- I bought poison for the price of a loaf of bread and mixed it into a hardy serving of peanut butter.
I'm sure it wouldn't have taken much more than a taste of the chemical concoction but my greedy mice cleaned the plate. Three days later, I'm paying for my peaceful sleep with a stench worse than autoclave cell culture waste. I've found three, but the smell is still permeating from my straw roofing. How fast do you think ants can carry off a mouse?

Speaking of the downside of straw roofing, I just watched one burst into flames in the adjacent compound. There is a little controversy concerning the fire's ignition. Was it ash on the wind, kids-play, or someone passing by?  I saw it across the way from my back yard. Everyone filled the compound quickly to remove the thatch-fuel and stop the fire with buckets of water straight from the well. The excitement only stretched  across a few minutes and left the hut in ruins.

My hut currently has a small construction zone in front. My brothers are building an outside sitting area/cement slab. Maybe I should teach them to build castles! I feel like it will soon annoy me as it attracts rambling kids in the afternoon and chatty men at night. The benefit might be a cool place to sit, stretch, and read, but in what degree of peace I'm not sure. Its okay, my "leave me alone" vocabulary is well-practiced.

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