Mouse Patrol

I was in the mood to organize. I get like that from time to time, an uncontrollable urge to create order, or sometimes just to move stuff around. I was downright giddy after last night’s purchase and assembly of a new storage cabinet, and this morning, I sat at work, bouncing in my chair and singing to myself. I was getting work done, but my mind was on my storeroom and what I wanted to put where. So when one of the online services I needed went down, I took a half-day off.

At home, I joyfully emptied the blue boxes, filled the black boxes, and shuffled the contents of the burgundy boxes. Then I emptied and reorganized the kitchen cupboards and counters, along with the hall closet, moving thematically chosen items to the new storage cabinet. I had a grand time. And yes, I remembered to walk up to my polling place and perform my civic duty.

This evening, I intended to write. The next sequence of scenes for my novel is reasonably clear in my mind, and I need to get them down before my hastily jotted notes stop making sense to me. But then came a cry for help . . .

My friend had a mouse in her house last week. She caught it and thought all was well. But last night, a quiet scritching and scuttling told her that she was not alone. So after setting out a half dozen or more traps, she called me. Because I’m the brave one--or something--she needed me to go on mouse patrol, checking behind and underneath all the furniture.

Flashlight and grabber tool in hand, I found papers, prescription medication, pocket change, photographs, and many other small sundries that had fallen into the darkness, but nary any mice. And no evidence of them in the place where she’d heard them the night before. (Beware the ghooooost mice.)

In the next room, however, there were definite fresh signs of rodent activity. So we moved some of the traps, plugged holes with steel wool, and set out fresh mint. Hopefully, she will not have any more tiny gray invaders.

Now, it is bedtime. Tomorrow night, I must write. My characters are threatening to ditch me and find a more diligent author.