Mortein is a Girl's Best Friend

That can is never out of reach.

Unlike a kinder, gentler blogger I know, I have no qualms about blasting Charlotte or any of her progeny into oblivion; there are just too many of them to elicit any sympathy from me. This week the cockroaches made their scheduled mid-Wet appearance, a few flying ants have made their way back inside, and to add to the plague-like manifestations, we had a mouse.

We arrived home from our overnight at the resort to find one of the Roma tomatoes left on the windowsill neatly hollowed out. That night the intruder was spotted dashing across the floor of the living area toward the kitchen. Bushcraft books were consulted for information on homemade mousetraps, including one with a greased beer bottle cantilevered over a bucket of water. My more compassionate housemates would have none of it. He'll drown! they whined. They were not appeased by my assertion I would wake when I heard the splash, rescue him, and release him outdoors. And it had to be a "him," because considering the possibility it was a "her," and a potentially pregnant "her" at that, would have sent me hightailing it back to the resort. (Not a bad plan, actually.)

Without anywhere to hide other than behind the dishwasher, he was easy to spot as he darted along the wall under our suspended lower cabinets like a duck in a shooting gallery. I set a bucket on its side with a peanutbutter-covered cracker as bait and stationed Jorge nearby with a broom to sweep him into the bucket when he approached. Jorge waited for about five minutes before abandoning his post, mumbling something about him being an idiot to consider such a plan. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Out came the Mortein. A shot behind the dishwasher sent him out of there in a hurry. Without Jorge on duty, he tried to make it to the bedroom, unsuccessfully, as I had the forethought to block the gap below the door with a towel. Back to the safety of the dishwasher where I gassed him unmercifully. For two days we waited for a tell-tale odor or the appearance of blowflies and considered how in the world we would extract the rodent's remains from deep inside the machine.

Nothing.

As I'd feared, the insecticide had probably only given him a tremendous buzz and, I suspected, changed him into a mutant killer mouse waiting for me to fall asleep to eat my face.

Elle's scream and a door slam announced his appearance in the pantry last night. The new plan was to keep the pantry sealed off until Jorge could bring home a trap. A humane trap! they whined. Jorge had already left work and could not be reached in time to communicate the need for the equipment. Fortunately he had picked up a six-pack on his way home, and when he opened the pantry door to throw out the bottles' shrinkwrap, there was the mouse distractedly munching garbage. Jorge easily reached down, picked the mouse off the top of the pile with the plastic wrap, and tossed him out the door.

He'll be back.

And I'll be waiting.


Behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.

-- The Holy Bible (Revelation 6:8)

Let The World Stand

Not having any luck getting the audio file linked here, but if you want to listen I can send you the file as a giant inbox clogging email attachment.

Just drop me a note: marlynnemail-roadschola (at) yahoo (dot) com (Substitute the usual "@" and "." symbols.)


With your whole body, with your whole heart, with your whole conscience, listen to the Revolution.... This is the music everyone who has ears should hear.

-- Alexander Blok (The Intelligentsia and the Revolution)

Busy Girl

This morning was a very special parade. After she announced the week's merit award winners, Grice was recognized along with a classmate for celebrating a birthday this week with a traditional rendition of "Happy Birthday" followed by the Aussie, "Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, HOORAY!"



Then she was called back up and recognized for her participation in the Muso Magic program. At the end of last year several students from the area schools were invited to join in a two-day workshop hosted by Adam Thompson of the Australian rock band Chocolate Starfish. In two days the kids brainstormed a melody, lyrics, and a name for their band (Tropical Rock), recorded a song and video, and presented a fully produced single to the public. Here Grice is receiving a certificate and a CD of their song from her principal.



(As soon as somebody explains to me how to link to an MP4a file you can hear it...)

Finally, she was called up yet again to receive her School Captain pin from the state representative for our area.



Wednesday she is off to Leadership Camp, a three-day, two-night seminar for area schools' School Captains and their Student Council associates at a nearby environmental center. She gets back Friday and Saturday/Sunday we are celebrating her birthday at the five-star resort her dad works at with a few of her friends in a room adjoining ours. The following Tuesday she returns to the same camp for a four-day, three-night extravaganza with her entire seventh grade class where she gets to go hiking, swimming, canoeing, and abseiling.

Not a bad way to kick off the new school year, eh?


So far away
Yet so close
Just be yourself
Like no other
When we are strong
Show no fear
Some lines are blurred
Make them clear

Sometimes a dream
Is all you need
Come take my hand now

Chorus:

We'll stand united
'Til the end of time
No one can stop us
Life is yours and mine
We can be anything

One perfect day
We stood up
Now the whole world's
Standing with us
We won't forget
How we were
Now it's all clear
Not a blur

Sometimes a dream
Is all you need
Come take my hand now

(Chorus)

When you just can't do this
On your own
You need us!
Take my hand by your side
You are not alone
We're with you!

(Chorus)

-- Let the World Stand (Tropical Rock)

The Bold and the Beautiful

This fellow, a giant rhinoceros beetle, sent Grice screaming to the back of the house where she slammed the door behind her in terror after it emitted its trademark defensive hiss. The twenty-cent piece is slightly larger than a quarter.



This little critter didn't make it. It expired out on the porch, but was so pretty we kept it around for a few days just to admire its gorgeous machine-like exterior. You can see the reflection of the ceiling's flourescent light fixture, as well as the photographer, if you look closely.

---

UPDATES: Cyclone Nelson fell apart and we had, instead of torrential rains, two spectacularly clear, cool days. After about a week straight of rain, it was a pleasant change. Today is also very nice, breezy, less humid, like winter in Florida.

Lulu has had her collar moved back two notches, so she is definitely growing, though you probably wouldn't notice much in a photo yet. She is what our friend calls "a goer," meaning she is full of pep. Playing with her littermates, she is still going strong long after the others have collapsed in puppy piles of exhaustion. Unfortunately, sometimes she mistakes Elle for a littermate. Housebreaking was not all that difficult. She lets us know when she wants to go out, practically pees on command, and is very private about leaving any hard evidence around. We tried crate training as a means of preventing any nighttime accidents and she adapted fairly well. She still sleeps inside the house, right at my feet, the crate mostly forgotten, but we do use it when, say, I have to go grocery shopping and she would have to wait in the car for too long a time. When she's full grown and there's no chance of someone swiping her, or of her going AWOL, she can come with us and wait in the car, windows down, like a proper Aussie dog. She obeys "sit," "down," "drop it," and the ever popular "no biting." We're working on getting her to come immediately when called, but she is still a puppy after all.

Oh, and re: The Wet, I forgot to mention the leeches.


Information is not knowledge.

-- Albert Einstein

Wetter Than Wet

Cyclone Nelson is headed our way. We haven't paid much attention to it until now since we no longer live on the coast, but it looks like we'll be feeling the effects of it by this evening. The stores are out of everything, they already were this past weekend when high water made many deliveries impossible, so there's no point going out to stock up. We'll just sit tight and see what happens.


Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative.

-- Oscar Wilde

The Wet

The weather is now full-on. Bridges under water, creek crossings impassable, mold and mildew in great supply, mud everywhere, and four-wheel drive necessary to get up our driveway (which, if it were a ski slope, would be a good blue run.) We have had two major infestations of bugs escaping the rain outside, wasps and flying ants. Both times our landlord scoffed, they wouldn’t be living inside the house, they only swarm outside this time of year and are drawn to the light, maybe you left a door open, but after two bug bombs up in the attic, a whole can of insecticide up under the eaves, and lots of sweeping and vacuuming, they are gone. Next will be the snakes. They also prefer dry spots this time of year.

On the positive side:

It’s very green.

The rain comes down mostly in a steady soft fall, or at least a persistent drizzle, with an occasional downpour and rarely any lightning or thunder; it’s very peaceful. Nice weather for curling up with a book, or watching the pages in your book curl.

Temperatures are comfortable, not hot and humid, and not cold and damp, somewhere in the middle, so that if you are caught outside without rain gear or an umbrella -- which is always, kids play in it, people shop in it, there's no avoiding it -- it’s not unpleasant. You will eventually dry out. Possibly in May.

We can hear the waterfall on the property and one of these days we’ll go take a look.


Stones are hollowed out by the constant dropping of water.

-- Ovid

Vale, Jack

December 26, 2001 - February 2, 2007

***

Jack Emerson, beloved pet and official principal of our homeschool, passed away peacefully in his sleep after suffering a tragic eye injury.

Thank you C, C, and N for loving him and taking such good care of him while we were away, and for keeping him comfortable his last few days.


The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one great thing.

-- Archilochus