City Mouse, Country Mouse

Finally, the rain and the cool are here. A wet blanket, yes, but autumn, at last. We will grow accustomed to the constant hiss and ping of apartment radiators for the next six months - and hollering at each other to be heard.

Still here in the city, awaiting the arrival of furnace parts in the country so that we can have heat there. The propane guys came and dismantled the thing two weeks ago, slapped a big red sticker on it - DANGER! DO NOT OPERATE! Apparently the burners are cracked, we'd probably been inhaling carbon monoxide. Terrific. We may head out for the weekend anyway, make the best of the wood-burning stove and a space heater.

With the rain and the cool comes a drop in air pressure; which means out come the mice. The other day I saw SIX in a span of an hour. Caught three of 'em in glue traps (ew, I know, very inhumane), the others continue to scurry behind the walls. Are you grossed out? Yeah, me too. But I seem to be calming down a bit. We live with mice, this is the reality. They're so small that plugging up holes won't do much good, there will always be a nook or a cranny to squeeze through. And I remind myself that they come because this is a hoppin' place to be... we cook a lot, the smells are yummy, surely the little guys pick us over the bachelor across the hall whose kitchen is spotless, barely used. Look, as long as they stay out of my bed, my food cabinets, and my shoes, they can scurry at will; we are reasonable people...

Too bad the pup isn't much of a mouse-catcher. Poor guy is ill the last couple days, probably something nasty he ate off the street. Woke us up in the middle o' the night last night wimpering like I've not heard in years. Didn't make it out fast enough, unfortunately (good thing the carpet is brown). Between this and his recent Lyme Disease diagnosis (no symptoms, though, thankfully), my kid is weathering the tough stuff of city and country life.

And speaking of tough stuff... my plants have been victims of vandelism. Someone - who? why? - decided to come along and violate the pansies and lavendar on the stoop. What I mean is, they were found completely dug up and left for dead, as if someone had actually grabbed them by their tops, yanked them out of their soil, then turned the pots on their heads. This was no accidental knocking over. What for? is all I can think. Rage against attempts at beauty? Rage against us outsider-newcomers? Nothin' better to do? Anyway, I brought them upstairs and put them back together, put the pansies back out (I dare you, try it again). Getting chilly for the lavendar, so I'll keep her inside for now. J. the Super was indignant, too; he says, "We need a camera out here, man," meaning a security camera, which is ridiculous of course, though I appreciate the sentiment.

This country mouse is looking forward to some time in the country soon; there's a guy down the street selling "I HEART BX" t-shirts; maybe we'll buy them on our way out.