When you’re a writer, if you’re ever at a loss for words to write, go outside and do some farm work. That’s my opinion at least. Without fail, I see something gross, do something hilarious, see something beautiful, or hear something chirping. The other day, farm work fell into the “see something gross” category.
First, as you’ll recall, The Animal Whisperer knocked down this old shed.
Then, I got writer’s block.
So, I went outside to start cleaning up the destruction zone.
And came upon this (and one other) mouse skin filled up with its composted remains.
Being the city girl that I /am/was/might-always-be/ I had (in my opinion) a clearly rational thought upon coming upon the mouse nest. “Ohhhh. That’s where those two lived. They’re dead. Musta eaten some mouse poison. No more mice here. Nope, nothing to be concerned about.”
Another portion of the nest, composed primarily of mop strings and shredded newspaper, caused me to imagine a wish-I-were-a-fly-on-the-wall discussion between the people who previously lived here about where the mop went:
He steps out to the side porch to grab the mop and sees…to his surprise…only the handle! He says to her, incredulously, “HONEY! What did you do to the mop!!!” She responds, jumping to the defensive, “What are you talking about? I did nothing to the mop!” After agreeing to each other’s innocence, they begin suspecting the kids, who have also commandeered the scissors.
Only seven years later does the truth come to light.
After moving a second rotten floorboard, I found another nest. Interestingly, whereas the other nest would blow away in a light breeze, this one held together as if glued. Being curious, but still naively believing the only two mice who could have lived here were dead, I pulled it apart with a stick, actually in awe of the rodents’ capabilities in nest building and gaining an improved visual for when I tell my 7-year-old his hair looks like a rat’s nest.
I’m sure you guessed it, but I didn’t. It was only after I shrieked upon uncovering a nest of LIVE mice that I realized…DUH. The fact that two mice are petrified does not indicate the termination of the species.
– The Goat Cheese Lady