A return, a departure, some rain and more mouse tales

I am back. Wow, almost two whole weeks since my last post. I am just getting worse and worse. Oh well, the mind has been somewhat fertile and I have been too busy to take the time to post. Bad me! Then again, I do not know how many people this is actually reaching, so in the end, who really cares?

The Lad arrived home from camp last week, July 21st. It was a good experience for him. It is also great to have him back. We were up at a friends' rented cottage over the weekend. Well, it was really drive up to the Bancroft area on Saturday morning and come back Sunday afternoon. It was a rustic cottage with dry wall up, ready to be taped, primed and painted. It also rained, on and off, more on than off, really, so that put a damper on our day. The Lad did catch some fish though.

We were fishing on a platform on Saturday. It was cloudy, but the rain did not start until we made it back to the cottage (just in time for dinner and it was a wonderful way to ruin the planned bonfire, oh well). I caught nothing on the platform, though I got a few nibbles. We used the plastic lures. On Sunday, we got the boys worms to use as bait. The Lad caught five fish from the dock and I had a nice kayak journey around the lake before lunch (and after going into Bancroft with our host).

Well, I have another mouse tail, er tale, to tell. I am on my way home on Monday, when I get a call from the Lad. He was putting something in the garbage and saw a mouse in our garbage drawer/compartment thing. I get home and figure that I am smart. I take the bin and bag outside. As I am tying up the bag, I feel something moving. This fucking mouse jumps up and out of the bag and scurries under the deck. The Wife asks if it is gone. I give her the good news, it is out of the house and the bad, it is not dead. Oh yeah, to make matters worse, the fucker left a shit calling card for me. It was soft and fresh, which meant I was cleaning out the bin, too.

We jump ahead to yesterday. We are having dinner and the power goes out around quarter to seven. No worries. Finish dinner and play a little baseball. We come home around 8 and the power still has not been restored. At some point, I go into the kitchen and hear a rustling sound. It is coming from the cupboard, beside the garbage compartment, where we keep our potatoes and onions/shallots/garlic. I could guess what was going on. I open up the door and see a mouse.

Now, we do not have power and I do not have any traps handy. What to do? We get some power back around 9:20 and I figure I need traps. I will try and put one in the cupboard with the mouse, hoping that it does not escape when I open the door. I make a quick trip to Lowe's (it is a little closer than the Home Depot), get a couple of traps and make my home. I get near the house and see that the power is gone, again.

At that point, I am not going to try to deal with the mouse. I mean, the thing is faster than I am, and I need my sight for this one. I did decide to bait and set the traps while I was there, though. All done by flashlight, no less. I figure I will try and get one in the cupboard with the mouse, close the door and let nature take its course. I also set one on the kitchen floor along the kickplate to the cabinets. Again, that door was not going to be opened until the lights came back on.

At about 10, the power is restored for good. I now have to go and deal with that fucking mouse. I put on my work gloves (used for all my critter disposal, poison baiting, garbage hauling and lumberjack needs), grab the broom (I need some kind of weapon in case it tries to escape) and realize that I have the second baited trap, set, on the counter. For some reason, I open the door and the thing squeals and jumps out. I smack the fucker with the broom and it runs towards the kickplate but away from the trap. I swing at it again, and in its sheer panic, it starts to run, along the kickplate, towards the trap.

I know from experience (see March of 2007 and my post regarding my hunting of the mouse in the Lad's room) that it will run into and set off the trap, though not because of the bait. The trap snaps and catches the fucker's neck. It's head is caught, legs are moving and tail is up in the air. Now, I have to taunt it and taunt it I do. I am telling it to lower its tail and just die, give it up and enjoy death, all that sort of shit. The tail eventually drops and it dies.

I now have to clean up its mess. I pull out the onions, etc. and throw them all out (I guess dinner will be less than flavorful tonight without the onions, garlic and shallots) along with the mouse in the trap. I clean the droppings (all fresh) and go back upstairs where The Wife and Lad sat playing cards. I am the Killer!

So, let that be a lesson to all you mice out there....I will kill you.

Ciao!

Mexicans--killing Canadians in Mexico and now coming up to Canada to do it there

I am back. I had a bit of a quick thought. Yesterday was the funeral of a Toronto woman who was killed. Her body was found in the trunk of her car and her credit card was used in Mexico. It has been alleged that she was killed by two Mexicans.

What the Fuck!!!!!? It is not bad enough that the Mexicans are murdering Canadian tourists in Mexico. That was obviously not enough for them. Now, they have to come up to Canada to kill Canadians?!!!!

Did the Mexican Flu, fuck that H1N1 bullshit, it is Mexican Flu (though the Mexicans did a good job of containing the outbreak) stop the flow of Canadian tourists to be hunted and perhaps killed by Mexicans. Maybe, that is why they coming up to hunt Canadians in Canada?

Just a twisted "Mexican" thought! Ciao!

We had a Lad sighting

I am back, again. I had a lot to say but have forgotten it all. Did get to see the Lad on Sunday for Visitor's Day at camp. He looked great and was doing just fine. He seemed well liked by his fellow campers and counsellors. Playing for that is not good, but if it comes to you, it is fine. And, it is fine.

We did stop in Orrville for a coffee. It was at that point I remembered walking to town, Orrville, when I went to that camp 35 years ago. It was a different camp, but it was on the same location. The camp is near Parry Sound, hence Orrville, named for Parry Sound's favorite son, Bobby Orr.

The Lad will be home in a week, so that should be cool. I do miss, I would like to say "little guy" but he is not so little anymore. I noticed that he has humongous feet. They are narrow, too. It is like he has two planks for feet. When I watched him walking with his skinny legs and clown shoes, it reminded me of an old friend. In junior high, he was smaller than me, still is, and had size 12 feet, which looked really oversized when compared to the rest of his body, except his natural afro.

I did see an old dude today, while getting some blood work done, and he was in all green. Mint green slacks, green and white stripped shirt and a darker green jacket (like he won the fucking Masters). Something about matching and matching ugly when you become an old man, I think. At least, he was not wearing shorts with white legs.

That is going to be all for today. Just wanted to mention about the Lad. Oh yeah, where were my birthday greetings and presents last week?!!!!

Ciao!

Oh where have I been?

I am back after a long absence. Happy July to one and all! The Lad was sent to camp on the 28th. It is very, really too quiet, around these parts without him here. We have received about 4 letters, all dated differently and arriving in a bit of a bizarre order.

The first letter was dated June 30th and told of him getting over his homesickness and getting on with camp. We knew about that due to a conversation with the Unit head. He had been sad the first two days or so, but was fully engaged in activities and was playing softball with a smile (that is how he plays). The second letter also arrived on the same day was dated July 5th. In that one he was telling us how he wanted to come home and was hating camp. Yet, he did go on to say that he water skiied, did well and loved it. This had us concerned.

The biggest concern was that he was moping, crying and garnering a cabin reputation as a suck. Another call to the Unit head, which was returned upon her return from a day off, put that notion to bed for us. She had spoken with him earlier and said that if he wrote his feelings down, it may help him. She did not intend for him to send the letter to us. I thought that he could just be venting and was having a less than good day, but still the concern lingered until I heard that.

Then yesterday, we received another two letters, one from the 28th and the other dated July 2nd. In both, he did not seem bad at all. He mentioned sailing and getting hit in the head by the boom (and apparently how the "boom" got its name, which I can really understand as I recall sailing at camp, 33 years ago, and getting hit in the head by the boom too many times to count).

There you have it. Visitors day is on Sunday. I look forward to seeing him but the parting is not going to be good for any of us. Then again, I know that the camp knows this and it is the same for most of the campers & parents.

He did get off okay. There were no tears. He does travel like me. Wants to be left alone and not have somebody asking questions or in his face. Unfortunately, it was raining, he had the umbrella and I had his backpack, so I had to be in his face. Poor him, but there was no other way.

That is all for today. Ciao!