Mousey, Mousey in the Housey
You may have noticed that I missed my usual Friday post. I was a little tired, and a little grumpy that morning–not in the best frame of mind to share my thoughts and ramblings with anyone.
We had an unexpected visitor a little after 2 am–the kind that keeps you up at night and ruins your sleep. It wasn’t a sick kid, a restless puppy, or an urgent phone call. It was a mouse in the closet once again. Yes, this is a recurring problem. Last winter, we awoke to strange scratching noises coming from the closet. I was certain mice would come running out all over my bedroom. The MR assured me they were in the wall, not waiting behind the door to get me.
That doesn’t make it any easier to sleep and only marginally less creepy. We found ourselves moving to the guest bedroom on more than one occasion. Then the MR came up with a great idea–granted I didn’t originally think so, but I should have more faith when he’s drilling holes in the wall in the middle of the night. He drilled a hole up high in the closet, sprayed in some insect fogger, and closed it up with tape.
While it doesn’t kill the mice, it does make our closet walls much less hospitable. After the spray fogger routine the other night I fell back to sleep, but the MR stayed awake and heard the mouse make its get away.
Those lovely beams and columns are more than simply decorative.
They are a rodent thoroughfare straight to our closet.
So Saturday morning, my man was on a mission. He spent a few hours in the dirt on his belly making sure the area around the column in our room was properly sealed. The former owner had sealed off one side but not the other. The MR–good guy that he is–finished the job. I am happy to report, while the temps remain in the 20′s overnight, we haven’t had any more nocturnal visitors.
Living on acreage in forested land, I know this will continue to be a battle. Our niece and nephew said the field mouse they saw in my sewing room was really cute with big brown eyes. I guess that’s somewhat comforting. And the mouse that ran out from between my legs as I sat on the toilet was small enough to escape in the space beneath the door as I screamed. It could have been worse.
I’m just glad I have the MR to take good care of me.
Have you had any unexpected visitors lately? Any tried and true ways to get rid of mice?
(Note: This post in some weird way reminds me of my grandmother. She used to repeat words asking “You likey, likey?” And when I was little she would tell me the story of Henny Penny and Turkey Lurkey, so Mousey, Mousey makes me think of my Grandma GeeGee. A character to be certain, she loved people and life.)