slickit cowering timorous beasties
Sep. 10th, 2010 08:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pameladeanI just moved the mouse to the left-hand side of the keyboard, because I was developing mouse elbow on the right side. I have very little ambidexterity, but I can use a mouse with either hand.
This does not mean that I have been dinking around on the internet when I should have been working on my book. Rather, it means that I've been cutting and pasting and opening and closing files and making mad furious notes to myself. It's hard to say where I am. There are files numbered up to 21 with things rather like chapters in them, but 18 is still requiring a lot of work, as I keep thinking, "Oh, no, wait, that has to happen before anything in Chapter 19," and then find that for various reasons, whatever it is can't really happen before Chapter 18. I have just decided to sacrifice two chapters I really like, in one of which Arry visits the market town associated with Heathwill Library and goes into a bookstore, and in the other of which both she and Ruth go into town to clandestinely mail some letters. Although, come to think of it, the letters have got to be mailed. Huh. Well, we'll see. The first trip is dead as a doornail, anyway.
Actual literal mice have also made themselves known of late. We had a mouse, at least one, in August. I hauled out the live trap, though it hadn't caught anything ever despite having been left temptingly around with peanut butter and crackers in it a half-dozen times before. I was charging from the front of the house to the back, on my way downstairs so we could all go have dinner at my mom's, when a mouse shot across from under the library radiator, where it was perfectly safe, and behind the filing cabinet the printer sits on. I heard a distinct hollow metallic bonging. I thought the mouse had bounced off the trap in its hurry, but then I heard faint scrabblings. It had run right into the trap. If I had been thinking, I'd have taken the trap along and let the mouse go around my mother's place; she lives in a modest wildlife preserve. I just thought, however, that it would have plenty to eat while I was gone. We ended up taking it to a local park, but I don't think, for various reasons, I want to repeat the experience.
When we got home, I decided to re-bait the trap -- the original bait having been tipped out with the mouse, in case it needed fortifying after its ordeal. I put the trap down in a convenient spot and put some peanut butter on a cracker. As I approached the trap to open it, a little mousy nose full of whiskers poked itself out of one of the air holes. The trap has two flexible metal ramps that mice can bend down with their weight to get in, but that then spring back into place; apparently mice can't figure out how to swing from the edges and make the ramps come down again. I suppose this second mouse was hiding under one of those ramps and did not care for the look of the park. I took the trap outside and let the mouse out in the back yard. It was more than ready to go, making a mighty leap of at least six feet.
A few days later I saw a very small, very dark mouse making abortive attempts to run in front of me so as to get out of my office; I was stomping around and the mouse was unhappy with this. A few days after that, David told me there was a dead mouse on the upstairs landing. When I got out there to clean it up, Aristophanes was tossing it into the air. I don't know if he came out of retirement to kill it or just wanted to play with the corpse. It was a dark little mouse like the one I'd scared. We haven't had any more on the second floor, but Arwen left Lydy a still quite good one, with a lot of spring in it, on the floor of her bedroom, just the day before yesterday.
I have missed two weeks of hiking, one because I could not make the schedule work and another because of a bout of vague but annoying intestinal malaise. I associate it with the lovely tofu dish I had at Peninsula when![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pecunium was in town. But such associations can always be coincidental. My symptoms cleared up right on the one-week mark, which could mean it was a mild virus. Anyway, I have high hopes for getting to Sherburne National Wildlife Refuge with Raphael next week.
Eric and I have made spring rolls (well, he made them; I fetched things) and read the Small Change series together. David and I have gone to see his mother and also discussed my new camera, which I still feel must be put off until I get paid for this book, if it ever is a book.
Briefly, looking to the outside world, I ask, How is the Ground Zero Mosque like the Holy Roman Empire? I am very pleased that a federal court declared DADT to be unconstitutional. And I hope people in San Bruno will be able to go home soon, if they have homes to go to. I always thought natural gas was insane, even though it's almost mandatory in Minnesota and we have gas stoves and furnaces ourselves.
In the meantime, I have to cut and paste some more bits together and see if they will walk like a chapter.
My best to you guys.
Pamela
This does not mean that I have been dinking around on the internet when I should have been working on my book. Rather, it means that I've been cutting and pasting and opening and closing files and making mad furious notes to myself. It's hard to say where I am. There are files numbered up to 21 with things rather like chapters in them, but 18 is still requiring a lot of work, as I keep thinking, "Oh, no, wait, that has to happen before anything in Chapter 19," and then find that for various reasons, whatever it is can't really happen before Chapter 18. I have just decided to sacrifice two chapters I really like, in one of which Arry visits the market town associated with Heathwill Library and goes into a bookstore, and in the other of which both she and Ruth go into town to clandestinely mail some letters. Although, come to think of it, the letters have got to be mailed. Huh. Well, we'll see. The first trip is dead as a doornail, anyway.
Actual literal mice have also made themselves known of late. We had a mouse, at least one, in August. I hauled out the live trap, though it hadn't caught anything ever despite having been left temptingly around with peanut butter and crackers in it a half-dozen times before. I was charging from the front of the house to the back, on my way downstairs so we could all go have dinner at my mom's, when a mouse shot across from under the library radiator, where it was perfectly safe, and behind the filing cabinet the printer sits on. I heard a distinct hollow metallic bonging. I thought the mouse had bounced off the trap in its hurry, but then I heard faint scrabblings. It had run right into the trap. If I had been thinking, I'd have taken the trap along and let the mouse go around my mother's place; she lives in a modest wildlife preserve. I just thought, however, that it would have plenty to eat while I was gone. We ended up taking it to a local park, but I don't think, for various reasons, I want to repeat the experience.
When we got home, I decided to re-bait the trap -- the original bait having been tipped out with the mouse, in case it needed fortifying after its ordeal. I put the trap down in a convenient spot and put some peanut butter on a cracker. As I approached the trap to open it, a little mousy nose full of whiskers poked itself out of one of the air holes. The trap has two flexible metal ramps that mice can bend down with their weight to get in, but that then spring back into place; apparently mice can't figure out how to swing from the edges and make the ramps come down again. I suppose this second mouse was hiding under one of those ramps and did not care for the look of the park. I took the trap outside and let the mouse out in the back yard. It was more than ready to go, making a mighty leap of at least six feet.
A few days later I saw a very small, very dark mouse making abortive attempts to run in front of me so as to get out of my office; I was stomping around and the mouse was unhappy with this. A few days after that, David told me there was a dead mouse on the upstairs landing. When I got out there to clean it up, Aristophanes was tossing it into the air. I don't know if he came out of retirement to kill it or just wanted to play with the corpse. It was a dark little mouse like the one I'd scared. We haven't had any more on the second floor, but Arwen left Lydy a still quite good one, with a lot of spring in it, on the floor of her bedroom, just the day before yesterday.
I have missed two weeks of hiking, one because I could not make the schedule work and another because of a bout of vague but annoying intestinal malaise. I associate it with the lovely tofu dish I had at Peninsula when
pecunium was in town. But such associations can always be coincidental. My symptoms cleared up right on the one-week mark, which could mean it was a mild virus. Anyway, I have high hopes for getting to Sherburne National Wildlife Refuge with Raphael next week.Eric and I have made spring rolls (well, he made them; I fetched things) and read the Small Change series together. David and I have gone to see his mother and also discussed my new camera, which I still feel must be put off until I get paid for this book, if it ever is a book.
Briefly, looking to the outside world, I ask, How is the Ground Zero Mosque like the Holy Roman Empire? I am very pleased that a federal court declared DADT to be unconstitutional. And I hope people in San Bruno will be able to go home soon, if they have homes to go to. I always thought natural gas was insane, even though it's almost mandatory in Minnesota and we have gas stoves and furnaces ourselves.
In the meantime, I have to cut and paste some more bits together and see if they will walk like a chapter.
My best to you guys.
Pamela
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 02:52 am (UTC)I love your description of the mouse Arwen left for Lydy.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 05:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 01:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 06:49 pm (UTC)*hug*
no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 07:07 pm (UTC)I'm sure the book will work out -- you just need to get it right.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 07:42 pm (UTC)Most of Arwen's presents are much more used.
P.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 07:43 pm (UTC)P.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 07:44 pm (UTC)There was a lot of strong lighting in the park; I wouldn't have cared for it if I'd been a mouse.
P.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 07:45 pm (UTC)*hug*
P.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 07:46 pm (UTC)We could probably find an outfit to do the same, but it would be expensive.
I feel that Junie would chase mice, but just because she's pushy with cats and people doesn't really mean she would be pushy with mice too.
P.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 07:54 pm (UTC)I can only hope this hell you are mired in gets better.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-11 09:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-12 12:45 am (UTC)So is Arry the character named for Arry the cat?
no subject
Date: 2010-09-12 06:14 pm (UTC)I mouse with my left hand on my own computer, having developed the talent by necessity after I did in my right shoulder on a flying trapeze. It's much better now, but the right shoulder still protests protracted mouse use, so it's easier to just leave the mouse over on that side.
I describe myself as ambimoustrous, though I suppose it should properly be ambimustrous, based on the Latin version of the word.
(It occurs to me that "mouse" as a verb works just fine, but the same isn't true if the pointing device is a touchpad or trackball.)
no subject
Date: 2010-09-13 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-17 06:10 am (UTC)P.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-17 07:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-17 04:00 pm (UTC)P.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-30 08:54 pm (UTC)Walk like a chapter--I love it.
My best to you, too.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-30 09:01 pm (UTC)I meant to post it here:
By the way, when I lived in my stone cottage, I once had nineteen deer mice, one after the other, and I rescued all of them in those little plastic traps with the one-way doors--I placed peanut butter inside.
People swore I was catching the same mouse over and over (and that it was loving its peanut-butter-laced ride to the woods every morning!) but I knew better--some of the mice had curls on their round ears and some were gray and some brown. One was so strong it shoved the trap from the kitchen into the dining room where I found it.
Every time I'd empty out the trap (in early morning light, before leaving for work), I'd pop open the door with a stick and say "Run, mouse! Run!"
Nineteen of them. I counted.